Albus Potter and the American
by Sarcasma
Summary: Albus is good at a lot of things. Relationships aren't one of them. After another failed attempt, Albus moves into the Burrow to take care of his Grandpa. Across the pond, Emily Davis is struggling with the inability to choose the right kind of guys. When Lily makes Al stand in as Emily's date the two find an arrangement that can work so long as they don't fall in love.
1. The Burrow

**A/N:** Ask and ye shall receive. So... some information on this story. This is technically the fourth in a set. The first **_Ginny Potter and Hell's Portal_ ** is followed by **_Gypsy Child_** and then _**The Empty Crib**_ , but as with the others, this can be read as a stand alone as well. Probably more so. For those who have been following along WELCOME BACK! I actually had a moment while writing the last chapter of _The Empty Crib_ where I sighed and lamented that I hadn't really ever given Albus a main role in the other stories. Every time I tried, it just felt a little too forced. But between my feeling that Al needed his own story and so many reviews mentioning a desire for such, I decided to do it!

This one is going to be different. For one, I don't have a large villain plot going on here. The others have been centered around a more epic-like plot, but I'm going to call this one a chick flick (and proud of it). Second, I may be playing in that grey area a little more in terms of the T rating, just as a warning. Still won't have anything explicit, but there will be acknowledgement of adult relationships, similar to the other stories. Also, we'll be working in a bit of flashback as well! Hope you enjoy that!

Anyway, thank you for everyone who has been reviewing on the others and I hope this one is loved, too. I love getting your reviews and if you review while signed in, I do respond.

 _ **The Burrow**_

"Arthur Weasley."

Arthur swallowed and walked up towards the platform, looking over to the Gryffindor table where his brother Billius made a face at him, pointing towards the Slytherins. He didn't want to go to Slytherin and Billius had been analyzing it the entire train ride, always with the conclusion that Arthur would make a perfect addition to the serpent house.

It was good and bad to be the last one. By now, most of the older students weren't paying attention to the first years and were just ready for the sorting to be over. They whispered across the tables, catching up with friends. Still, Arthur was the last one. He had stood, every thought of how terrible this could end up cycling through his mind over and over again.

Arthur sat on the stool, a dark haired witch with narrow eyes setting the hat on his head like she had with countless others.

"Weasleys make my job easy," the hat said into his ear. "Gryffindor!"

There was some scattered applause as Arthur felt his face burn red as he hurried towards the Gryffindor table, tripping on his overly long robes, recovering amid laughter. Various hands patted his back as he found an empty space at the table.

"Way to go, Fart-thur," Billius said, reaching across the table and two other first years to ruffle Arthur's hair.

Arthur hit away his brother's hand away, though Billius laughed at the attempt before he pulled back.

"That your brother, then?"

Arthur was trying to straighten his hair back out as he looked across at the girl who had asked the question. He froze and blinked. It was another first year. He tried to remember what her name was from the lineup. All he could remember was there were a few people between them, and he only remembered that because she was the other first year with vivid red hair. Now that she was looking at him, he realized just how pretty she was too. She had a round face and wide, brown eyes. She may have even had more freckles than him, but hers seemed to spatter perfectly over her nose and under her eyes, like an intricate mask.

"Yeah. He's kind of a prat," Arthur muttered.

"My brothers are here, too," she said, turning to her right. "Those two way down there."

Arthur bent forward. Two identical boys, with the same eyes as the girl, and medium brown hair were showing off something in their hands to another older students.

"They're in their fifth year, now."

"Billius is third year," Arthur said. "I wish he were fifth. Then he'd be out of here sooner."

"Want the place to yourself, then?" the girl asked with a smile.

"No, then my younger brother will be here. Billius just likes to embarrass me."

"Fabian and Gideon like a laugh, too," she said, leaning over and grabbing a dinner roll. "My mum told them that if they even think of pulling anything on me, she'll make them work like house elves during the holidays. Make them wear curtains and all."

Arthur laughed, sputtering out the soup he'd taken a bite of. The girl made a look of disgust as she wiped away what had gotten on her robes. Arthur turned bright red, his face burning. "Sorry," he said.

"It's okay," she replied, though Arthur could tell it wouldn't be forgotten any time soon. Not the least of which because Billius had seen and was already mimicking the moment. "What's your name, by the way?"

"Arthur Weasley," he said quietly, wishing he could disappear.

"Good to meet you, Arthur," the girl said, smiling wide. "I'm Molly. Molly Prewett."

* * *

Albus scratched out another line on the page, pulled off his glasses, and rubbed at his eyes. He had been staring at a single page for the past hour and wasn't sure how much more he could handle on this topic. He stretched and dipped his quill in ink when Margaret Edgecombe walked into his office.

Margaret worked as a receptionist at Gringotts. She was pretty, blonde, a few years younger than Albus, and currently leaning against the doorway into Albus's office. They hadn't talked in almost a week and Albus leaned back in his chair, turning towards her.

"Hi, Maggie," Albus mumbled. "Is there something I can help you with?"

" _Is there something you can help me with_?" Margaret repeated, narrowing her eyes. "I thought you'd want to apologize by now."

"For what?"

" _For what?!_ "

"Look, if I wanted to hear everything I said repeated, I would go buy myself a parrot," Albus said, turning back to the legislation in front of him.

"You," Margaret seethed. "You are unbelievable, Albus Potter."

"I'm working right now Maggie," Albus replied, not looking up from his work. "Which, if I remember correctly, was your problem with me."

"All I wanted was more time with you, Albus," she snapped.

"No, I believe your exact words were 'you have no love in you for anything except syntax and semantics.' I didn't ever applaud you for the alliteration on that one, by the way, so cheers."

Margaret took in a deep, huffing breath, pulling up in stature, which still didn't do much for her. Albus kept looking at his page, though his eyes still weren't concentrating on any words or phrases.

"You are cruel!" Margaret snapped. "You are hateful and I never want to see you again."

She stomped her foot and turned to leave.

"So you said last week," Albus muttered under his breath.

"That was quite a scene," James said, stepping into the office just as Albus thought he'd have quiet again.

"Great," Albus said, throwing down his quill. "I guess I'm never going to get this done."

"Easy, there," James said, laughing. "I thought she was a bit of a pill myself. Imogen had a couple ideas of some girls from the clan to set you up with before you asked out Maggie last month."

Albus rolled up the scroll he'd been working on, setting it neatly in order with the others in the queue.

"I think I'm done with that," Albus said. "Tell Imogen thanks, but no thanks."

"Come on, Al," James said. He picked up a carved wooden figure of a frog from the corner of Albus's desk. Albus reached over and plucked it from his hands, setting it back down. "We just want you to be happy."

"I am happy," Albus said, pulling a couple books from the shelf, packing them into the leather messenger bag he used for work. "Just because I didn't find a soulmate at fifteen like everyone else in our family doesn't mean I'm not happy."

"Alright," James shrugged. "Imogen still wanted you to come to dinner tonight."

"Can't," Albus replied.

"Why not?" James asked, standing as Albus stepped out of the door. Everyone else in the office had gone home well over an hour before.

"I have to read up on the precedence for these laws. The brief is due at the end of the week and—"

"And Andreas keeps asking why Uncle Al hasn't come to see him in a while," James said.

There it was. The ultimate guilt trip. His family was using it more and more often, having realized that his nieces and nephews seemed the most influential pawns to getting Albus to drop what he should be doing.

Andreas was eight, now. James and Imogen had two others. A six year old daughter named Trina and a three year old boy named Fritz. Lily and Lorcan, too, had made quick work of procreating once they started. The latest count was four daughters under the age of five—Abigail, five, the twins Callie and Cara, four, and Harriet, aged two—with a fifth on the way. The joke in the family was to place bets on whether their brood was a result of Lorcan holding out for a son or Lily trying to singlehandedly populate the Holyhead Harpies two decades from now.

The whole lot of them could distract Albus in an instant.

"Fine," Albus said. "But I can't stay late. There really is a lot to do."

Albus turned to lock the door when an owl barrelled down the hall, hitting him against his head and knocking his glasses off. James laughed as he bent down to pick up the paper.

"What the hell," Albus complained. "Owls aren't allowed in the ministry."

James opened the paper and his smile faded as he read. "Not unless it's an emergency," he corrected Albus. James turned on his heels and Albus walked after him.

"What is it? James?"

"It's grandpa," he replied, hurrying to the lift, holding it as Albus stepped in.

They rushed together in silence into Mungo's. They were given directions to the wrong floor before they finally saw the gathering of almost all their uncles, standing with their parents.

"Mum," James called. He walked by Percy and hugged Ginny. "You okay?"

Ginny nodded, holding onto him, then turning to hug Albus as well. "We can go in and see him in a mo," she said.

"Got himself good and shocked with a muggle car battery," George explained.

"I've said for ages we need to throw all that away," Percy said.

"Yeah, like he's not just going to go get more," Bill countered.

It had been six months since Molly had passed away. Albus had experienced few things that were worse than going through the loss of his grandmother, and that was nothing to how Grandpa Weasley was handling it. Molly hadn't felt well for a couple weeks before they took her to St. Mungo's. Of course, she hadn't told anyone of her symptoms, continuing to cook and clean as she generally did. By the time they went to Mungo's and they found she had Scrofungulus, it was too late. She was gone within the week to the shock and grief of everyone who knew her.

Everyone tried their best to make the funeral a true celebration of her life and the love she always showed to her children and all who knew her, but Albus could hardly remember what had been said or the toasts that had been made. What he did remember was Arthur sitting with his legs crossed, looking numbly into space.

Albus didn't know why, but he was insistent that he would continue to live at the Burrow. Both Molly and Fred were buried at the local cemetery, so it didn't particularly surprise him on that count, but the house was just so large. Albus didn't know how he was possibly keeping it up, and if today was any indication, perhaps he didn't bother with the house much at all. Perhaps he spent most of his time in the workshop on his various projects.

A healer came out of Arthur's room, shocked to see the mass of visitors in front of him. "I-I'm sorry, only direct relatives."

"We are direct relatives," Ginny said.

"Then, er," the healer scratched his head. "Then, perhaps four at a time?"

"That's fine," Bill said, waving over Louis, who had just arrived. Albus wondered how many others were coming. Charlie, certainly.

"James needs to get home to Imogen," Ginny said.

"Why don't you all go first, then," George offered.

Ginny pulled Albus and James along, Harry taking up the rear as they entered the hospital room. Arthur was sitting up, smiling wide, the hair he still had was white. Albus had never noticed before, but his hands were shaky in his lap. He wondered if it was part of shocking himself, or if this was a new development of his age.

"James! Albus!" Arthur said. "Didn't know you came, too. What a nice surprise!"

As Albus pulled away, Arthur pressed a sickle into his hand. "We don't need this, Grandpa," Albus said, trying to give it back.

"Speak for yourself," James said with a glint in his eye, pressing his own coin into his pocket. "I'm getting an ice cream on the way home."

Arthur chuckled. "Ginny, dear—"

"What were you thinking?" she demanded as she cut him off.

Albus stepped back by the wall, wondering how his grandfather didn't melt under that glare.

"It was really a harmless—"

"Harmless? _Harmless?!_ "

Albus was reminded of Maggie. Somehow the repetition seemed more threatening coming from Ginny. Albus mused for a moment that perhaps Maggie should take up private lessons with her.

"What if Rolfus hadn't been by to check on you?" Ginny demanded. "Messing around with muggle objects you have no clue about."

"It's all in good fun, Ginny dear," he said. "And I learned my lesson on that one. Won't be doing that again."

"It's not a laugh," Ginny snapped.

"Ginny," Harry whispered, putting a hand on her arm.

Ginny swallowed, taking a deep breath. "Once they release you, you're moving in with me and Harry."

The apologetic grin disappeared from Arthur's face.

"No," he said.

"This isn't up for discussion," Ginny said.

"No," he repeated. "I'm not leaving my home."

"Dad, you—"

"I said no, Ginevra," he shouted. She looked stunned, her eyes wide open, her mouth tight. No one was used to Arthur being firm. Albus looked away. "Just because you look like your mother does not give you the right to decide what happens to our house."

Albus exchanged a glance with James. "Er, I guess Al and I will just—"

"No, stay and visit with your grandfather," Ginny said, not looking away from Arthur, tears filling her eyes and pouring over. "God knows how long he has left before he gets himself killed."

She turned and marched out the door, wiping at her face with Harry following. Albus looked at Arthur. His gaze was distant again, the same as it was at the funeral. He waited a moment, then blinked and turned towards James. Arthur's jovial smile returned. "How's Imogen doing?" he asked.

* * *

They had gone round and round the table with the same arguments again and again. Albus could distill it into two basic options.

The first was to let Arthur continue living as he was and hope something like today didn't happen again. This might include some weeding out of his collections and trying to figure out how to minimize the chances he would blow himself up with one of his projects. Or to just accept what would happen as it came.

"I can't lose both of them in the same year," Ginny cried. Bill sat on her left and put an arm around her as she wiped at her eyes.

"Well then, we have to go through the right channels," Hermione sighed.

None of them wanted to actually follow through on the second option, even if it seemed the more reasonable course of action. If Grandpa Weasley wasn't going to choose to live somewhere that he would be taken care of, they would have to put in orders to legally put him in the care of one of his children.

"He's not that far gone, yet," George argued.

"He can't be without some kind of supervision," Percy disagreed. "Mum always managed to keep him from going completely daft with that stuff, but now…"

They all sat in silence, each filling in the various endings to that sentence. Now he was lost. Now he was reckless. Now he didn't have direction. Now he might just blow himself up.

Albus sat back, realizing there was a third option.

"What if one of us lived with him?" he asked.

"We all have our own lives to be getting on with," Ron said. "We can't just sell our houses to move back there at this point."

"I could," Albus said.

"Al," Ginny said.

"No, really, Mum," Albus said. "My lease is up in a month anyways. And there's plenty of room at the Burrow, right?"

"That's not going to take care of what happens while you're at work," James pointed out.

"So I make one of the rooms into my office there," Albus shrugged. "It's quiet enough, I think. So long as Aunt Hermione's okay with that arrangement."

Hermione had been the Minister for just over five years. Before that, she had Albus's position as Head of Magical Law. Albus had expected the position to be taken from him at one point. Afterall, he'd only been given the job in the first place because the previous Minister thought he was using Albus to his benefit. Albus, of course, had his own plans, which included getting his family cleared of various trumped up charged. When they did come back and Hermione was given her new position, Albus kept reminding her that someone needed to take his place. Hermione did well at playing it off like something that was in the works, but she never did reassign the job, so he kept going until he realized that had been her intention from the beginning.

In the latest need, this may have actually been helpful. He didn't need to be at the Ministry for most of what he did.

"I'll have to go in for trials and some meetings, but I could do most of the work from the Burrow, right?" he confirmed.

"I don't see why not," Hermione affirmed.

"What about Maggie," Ginny asked.

"We broke it off," Albus said. He hadn't told anyone yet. James having just found out when he witnessed Margaret's fit. Albus felt heat rise to his neck, unsure if he was imagining all eyes on him or if it was just the disappointed look from his mother at yet another failed attempt at a relationship. "So that won't matter."

"I don't know," Ginny muttered still.

"I think it's worth a try," Bill said. "We can either make a deal with Dad that when Albus isn't there he doesn't mess around in the shed, or even make him think it's his idea."

"If it doesn't work, we can always go to plan B," Ron said. "But I don't see why we should upset Dad if we don't have to."

Everyone fell into a lull. They all knew this was their best chance at a happy medium.

"Well," Ginny said with a sigh. "I guess we should help you figure out what you need, Al."

* * *

"Down! Everything down," Emily shouted over the class, who were happily levitating various objects from their book bags by the end of class.

Quills, bottles of ink, and books all fell back to their owners, until all that was left was a single light pink blanket, tattered and well loved, floating above the head of Sarah Nettles as she reached for it.

"Give it back," she hissed.

Daniel Waters sat behind her, his wand pointing up, levitating it with a smile.

"I think we need another example of the uses of _Wingardium Leviosa_ ," Emily said, pointing her wand at Daniel's chair, silently doing what her beginning grade class had just learned using the incantation.

Daniel's wand lowered as he gripped the sides of his chair, the blanket dropping into Sarah's hands as he shouted. The rest of the class laughed and Emily set him back down.

"Careful where you point your wand, Mr. Waters," Emily said. The bell rang and the students shoved their things into their bags. "Don't forget to look over cheering charms for next class! I want you all to come prepared next time. That means you, Kendra."

They all shuffled out of class and Emily noticed out of the corner of her eye Daniel waiting by the door until Sarah exited. He followed her, talking low as she wrapped her arms around herself. Emily only caught one bit of his taunting. "... still carrying your baby blanket around. Seriously, how old are…"

Emily took in a deep breath and walked to the edge of the hallway. "Ms. Nettles, you forgot the book I had for you," she said from where she stood. Daniel stood up straight, watching. "On you go, Daniel," Emily shooed him.

He walked on as Emily brought Sarah back into the class. Sarah was on the verge of tears.

Emily had taught at the Towers Academy of Pennsylvania since she was twenty-five. Eight years. The Academy had students that lived at home and took the floo network from any of the five neighboring states that made up the school's populations. Some students, like Sarah, boarded at the school itself. She was a sweet girl, but timid. Emily wanted to help her out with Daniel, but in her experience with bullies the attention—even negative attention—only egged on their efforts more.

Even then, there were worse messages to give Sarah. The week before, Emily heard another teacher trying to tell Sarah that Daniel picked on her because he liked her. Emily almost chewed out Grete Miller for feeding such an idiotic message to an eleven year old girl. Daniel was a bully because of his own issues, certainly, but the last thing Sarah needed was to think that someone who would treat her like shit did it because he _liked her_.

"Shake it off," Emily told Sarah, pulling out a book from her drawer as Sarah's tears fell. "Don't let him get to you."

"I know I'm too old to carry around my baby blanket," Sarah said. Emily gave her some tissues to wipe her eyes. "It's the only thing my mom made me before she died. I just like having it with me."

Emily let out a long, steady breath. She pulled Sarah into her. "Then don't let someone like Daniel ruin that connection, hon."

Emily didn't have anything from her mother. Or her father, for that matter. They died when she was too young to remember. Her older sister Taylor told her stories from time to time, but Emily knew it wasn't an easy situation for Taylor to talk about. Particularly because of what it lead to—first, living with their insane and abusive grandmother, then ending up under the Imperius Curse at a compound where they were used for their magic.

When Emily was eleven, Taylor and a group of others came to free everyone still under the control of the man who ran the compound. Emily never talked about any of this. Not to anyone. After they left, Emily moved in with their Aunt Josephine and Taylor came to visit whenever she had time away from the Dragon Reserve where she worked in Romania, and they never talked about the past. Even with a student like Sarah, Emily would listen and give them books and treats and help them through the early months of living away from home, but she never told them about her own past.

"How are your other classes going?" Emily asked, pulling up a chair and waving her wand to place another for Sarah in front of her.

Sarah talked about her classes and teachers for the next fifteen minutes. She launched into an exciting telling of how she was now best friends with Madelyn Andersen, who she shared a dormitory with, and about how she was waiting for an owl to come back from her dad, but that he hadn't replied in over a week.

"I'm sure you'll hear from him soon," Emily said with a smile. "You should probably get to lunch before it's over."

"Yeah," Sarah said, standing. "Madelyn's probably waiting."

"Don't forget the book," Emily said reaching over to the desk to hand it over.

"Thanks Miss Davis," Sarah said with a wide smile and ran from the room.

Emily sat back, hoping Daniel was too busy to bother Sarah. She stood and walked to the desk, pulling at a messy pile of scrolls, glimpsing the answers as she tried to straighten them out. She seemed in a perpetual state of getting organized. There were three empty mugs that she needed to wash out. Instead, she'd probably grab a new one to fill with coffee in the next hour and it would be added to the growing collection.

There was a knock at the classroom door. Emily turned. "Eric," she said. "Come in."

"Hey, I only had a minute," he said, stepping into the room.

Emily set down the scrolls. "Sure," she said, walking over to give him a quick peck on the lips.

Eric started teaching Biology of Magical Beings at the Academy two years before. He was tall with perfect blonde hair and one of the whitest smiles Emily had ever seen on a man. If that hadn't been enough for her to be immediately interested, they spent one of his first nights in Pennsylvania at a bar talking about everything from their favorite Quodpot teams to their biggest blunders in the classroom. He was funny, smart, and clever. Most importantly, he had his life together, which was more than what Emily could say for half the men she'd dated in the past decade.

"Yeah, babe, I wanted to talk really quick," Eric said.

"What is it?" Emily asked.

Eric pulled Emily in by the waist, licking his lips. "I know I promised we'd go out this weekend—" Emily rolled her eyes at his introduction, knowing what was coming "—but there's this thing… and I got tickets to go see the New York-New Hampshire Quodpot game with Evan, and—"

"You ditched out on me last weekend," Emily said.

"I know, but it's New York playing! Come on, you know it's almost impossible to get those tickets."

"Of course I know," Emily replied, looking at him. "I bought us tickets for your birthday last year."

"Come on, babe," Eric said. "We'll go out tomorrow night."

"You're not going to get drunk and be too hungover?" she asked, knowing how he got when he went to a live game.

"Cross my heart," Eric said.

"Fine," Emily sighed. "But whatever you plan better be good."

"Thanks, babe," Eric said, that perfect white smile almost enough to melt away her irritation that he was ditching her. Again. He leaned in and kissed her, his hands lowering. Emily pulled away.

"We're at work," she reminded him.

"Yeah," he sighed. Eric grabbed her chin and gave one more gentle kiss before pulling away, winking, and heading out of the class.

Emily stood there for several moments, thinking of Sarah and Daniel and the mixed messages of how to tell if a guy liked you. She couldn't help but think Eric wouldn't pass that test with flying colors.

* * *

"Don't move your grandma's pots," Arthur instructed as Albus tried to gather some of the old, worn sauce pans from where they hung.

The kitchen was probably the cleanest room in the house. Not much comfort to most of the family. Apparently Grandpa Weasley had been going out once a day to the muggle tavern for supper, but shut himself away with his projects the rest of the time. The other rooms at the Burrow had clothes, blankets, and trash littered throughout.

Albus started by cleaning all of it up. Ginny came the first weekend to help out, redecorating her old room for Albus and helping turn the room on the next floor up into a decent home office. She had even gone out and bought him a owl for corresponding.

"What are you going to name him?" Ginny asked, setting the large barn owl on a perch in the office.

"'Nine-to-Five'," he replied.

"Albus," Ginny said, giving him a look. He just smiled and shrugged.

He would have to figure out how to get rid of the ghoul in the attic without Grandpa noticing. Grandpa never went upstairs and wouldn't even know the thing had gone missing, though he insisted Albus not change too much.

And now it was the pots and pans.

"I have a newer set," Albus said. "I can't cook with this old stuff."

"Molly was always very particular about the kitchen," Arthur said. "She liked it a certain way."

"Well, can I unpack mine at least?" Albus asked, feeling more irritated than he wanted to at Arthur.

"I guess that would be fine," Arthur answered, scratching his head. "Just don't move her things."

"Alright, Grandpa," Albus sighed.

"I'll be out in the shop working," Arthur said.

"Okay."

Albus was glad to finally have all his things here. He'd been following Grandpa Weasley's habit of eating their evening meal out and adding in simple breakfasts and sandwiches for lunch, but Albus learned in his mid twenties he liked to cook for himself. The girls he dated were often surprised that his apartment was always immaculate and he rarely took them out to eat, making gourmet meals for them instead. They were pleasantly surprised that he managed these household tasks without prompting. They were less pleasantly surprised when this was attached to his habitual sense of independence.

He pulled out a saucepan and used his wand to summon the butter, flour, and milk to start a simple sauce, thinking about what else he wanted to get done that day.

There were at least a dozen drafts for briefs he needed to go through. There was a case he needed to review. That didn't include the owls he needed to respond to from half a dozen officials at the Ministry. Albus had seriously underestimated how much time it would take to get the Burrow in order. At the same time, he reminded himself this was why someone needed to be here. While Grandpa Weasley wasn't helpless, Grandma had created so many habits of taking care of things herself Grandpa didn't know where to start anymore.

Albus went back and forth in how he felt about the situation. He was single for a reason—several reasons, if Margaret were to be believed—but a benefit to being single was he only had to worry about himself. Now he peeked out of the window every ten minutes to make sure there wasn't fire coming from the shed. He got up early to get laundry done for both of them. He had to make sure Grandpa Weasley ate. It was uncomfortable having someone else depend on him like this.

"Stop complaining," he muttered to himself, setting water on to boil. "When else are you going to get a chance to know Grandpa so well?"

Still, there was a balancing act that would need to take place. Albus looked out the window, wondering if he could really manage it.


	2. Breakups and Bookstores

_**Breakups and Bookstores**_

The kitchen windows shook with the boom. Albus threw aside the spatula and pulled out his wand as he ran out the door and towards the shed.

"Grandpa!" he shouted as he opened the door, smoke pouring out. He waved his wand and the smoke disappeared.

Grandpa Weasley leaned against his workbench, sputtering and coughing. Albus walked over, helping him stand upright and waving for a glass of water to appear. He helped him drink it down.

"What were you doing?" Albus asked with a sigh.

"Something muggles call sawring," Arthur replied, taking a deep breath. "They use fire or something and collect bits of metal and wire and—"

"Then what exploded?" Albus asked.

"Well, I thought it might go faster if I used my wand and—"

"Grandpa," Albus groaned. "Really? Just… stick to the muggle way of doing it if you're going to mess about. Obviously this mixing in magic doesn't help."

"Maybe," Arthur said, scratching the top of his bald head. "Only, I kind of have the concepts, but the details are a little fuzzy."

Albus clenched his jaw, stopping himself, yet again, from lecturing Grandpa Weasley about these little distractions. Over the three weeks he'd lived at the Burrow, Albus had barely gotten his work done. Every weekend a different family member came to visit, which would have helped if Albus wasn't using those days to get grocery shopping and other errands completed. The last weekend Aunt Hermione and Ron joined them.

"I'll get on top of those adjustments you sent me first thing Monday," Albus told Hermione.

"Relax," she said. "You're getting as much work done as is expected from anyone."

"It's still not enough," Albus sighed.

"You need to learn to delegate more, Al," she said, grabbing the broom from him. Hermione swept up the kitchen. "You have a competent team and you shouldn't overwork yourself."

He didn't argue, but he also hadn't handed off the piles of work upstairs. That was for him to deal with, if Grandpa Weasley would stay out of trouble long enough for him to concentrate for a full day.

"Let's take a trip to London and find some books on it, then," Albus suggested. "I need to pick up a couple boxes from my office at the Ministry and we can go have dinner with Mum and Dad. Breakfast should be… shit!"

Albus ran out of the shed and back into the house. The omelets he'd been making were burnt, more smoke filling the kitchen. Albus grabbed the handle of the pan, throwing it into the sink as his hand burned from the heat. He let out a string of curses as he ran the water over his hand, then used a pot holder to pull the pan underneath the stream as well, bits of egg breaking up and flowing into the basin then down the drain.

"Burned your breakfast, did you?" Arthur asked, shuffling into the kitchen.

"Burned _our_ breakfast," Albus replied. "I was a little more concerned with whether I would be blamed for your death."

Arthur chuckled, though Albus was finding these moments less and less humorous. He used his wand to turn off the stove, then reached in the cupboard for a salve for the burn on his hand. It would be gone by the time they left, but Albus was still irritated by the entire incident that lead to this.

"What's the project you're working on?" Albus asked.

Arthur shook his head. He had refused to answer every time Albus asked. Some top secret muggle project. Albus rolled his eyes. It was probably something illegal. Maybe Albus didn't want to know. Maybe whatever it was would put him in a bad position at work. He should probably stop asking, only the possibility of it being something that would end in Grandpa Weasley dead kept Albus asking at random times, hoping he would break or be thrown off and answer.

"So how about London?" Albus asked.

"Yeah, that sounds nice," Arthur said. "There's this muggle junk yard where I might want to pick up a few things."

"Why not?" Albus muttered.

Albus made some plain toast for both of them, then went up to his room to change before grabbing Grandpa Weasley and getting ready to go.

A year before—when Grandma Weasley was still alive—Grandpa Weasley had tried to apparate into the city and splinched himself, missing one of his feet. Everything was straightened out, but it ended with a letter from the Department of Wizarding Transportation stating his apparition license was suspended unless he passed another test. Included in the letter was a handful of leaflets on aging and apparition. Of course Grandma had flat out insisted he travel by floo or portkey from then on. Albus grabbed some floo and had Grandpa Weasley go through first. He followed behind, seeing Arthur chumming it up with a couple people in the Leaky Cauldron as he stepped out of the fireplace.

"Is this one yours, Arthur?"

"Sure is," Arthur said. "Harry and Ginny's boy, you know. Albus."

"Ah of course! Good to meet you, m'boy," the older man said. "Dedalus Diggle."

"Oh, Mr. Diggle," Albus said. "I know your name, of course. You… knew my parents when they were young, right?"

"Part of the Order of the Phoenix," Diggle confirmed with a nod. "How are they these days?"

"Good," Albus said. "Dad's still teaching Defense at Hogwarts."

"Good, good," Diggle said. "He was cut from the right cloth for that job, I think."

"He does seem to enjoy it," Albus said.

"And what are you up to these days, Arthur?" Diggle asked.

"Oh, a little of this, a little of that," he said. "Getting around to projects that I never did while working, you know. Albus here is going to be helping me a bit, I daresay."

Albus gave a strained smile, not bothering to point out that he didn't have time to help out. He had work to do. He had letters to write and laws to review, and a million other tasks sitting back at the Burrow waiting for him.

"I heard about Molly, by the way. Terrible loss," Diggle said. Arthur's whole demeanor deflated and the distant look took over. "I remember classes with her. Remember how she used to help me in Transfiguration?"

Albus felt at a loss for what to do as Arthur tried to smile at the reminiscing. Diggle turned to Albus.

"I was hopeless in that class," he explained. "I was in Hufflepuff, but the biggest godsend for me was that we doubled with Gryffindor and your grandmother was in the next seat to us. Arthur wasn't half bad in that class either."

"That was because Molly always helped me in our free time," he said, a small smile edging his mouth, though he still looked away from them.

There was an awkward silence. "Well, we have some errands to be getting onto," Albus said. "It was good to meet you, Mr. Diggle."

"Dedalus, please," Diggle said, reaching out and shaking Albus's hand enthusiastically. "Send your parents my best."

"Will do," Albus said with a nod and he ushered his grandpa towards the door.

"You know, Al, come to think of it, I might just—"

"Nope, not getting out of this one Gramps," Albus said. "We're already here."

If Arthur had been reluctant after talking to Dedalus Diggle, the reluctance melted away when he started looking at the titles on the bookshelf labeled _Do It Yourself_ at the muggle bookshop. He was positively delighted, pulling one book after another into his arms.

"Barbeque?" Arthur said. "Amazing, Albus, simply amazing. Look how they build their outdoor cooking mechanisms." He added the book to his stack. "Oh my, woodworking!"

Albus smiled, shaking his head as he sorted through the books, trying to decide what actually might be useful. There was one on metalworking, another on basic craft production, and a third Albus knew they _must_ get all about how to assemble electrical elements.

"Huh, soldering," Arthur said. "That's what it was called, Al, soldering."

"Can I help you find anything?" a girl with curly brown hair asked, smiling between Albus and Arthur. She wore glasses and pushed them further up her nose by the edge.

"I think we're finding quite too much already, thanks," Albus said smiling at her. She gave a little chuckle.

"Want me to take any of those, then? We can hold them up at the register for you," she added.

"Perhaps. Are you still wanting to look through these, Grandpa?" Albus asked.

"Sure, sure," Arthur said offhandedly as he stroked his chin, engulfed in the book in his hands. "Tell me, have you ever soldered larger pieces of metal before?"

"I, er," the girl looked confused by the question. "I don't really do that sort of work."

"Who generally does work with soldering?" Arthur asked. "Would a plumber know that sort of thing?"

The bookshop attendant answered a variety of Arthur's random questions. Albus was worried for a moment that he wasn't acting more muggle-like at first, but the girl seemed happy to indulge without any particularly doubtful expressions. She even helped to find a couple more books on electrical work and one all about the invention of batteries.

"Look at this, Albus," Arthur said, beaming. "The history of batteries! Amazing!"

"Why don't you look through these ones and I'll go with, er—"

"Alex," the girl said.

"Yeah, I'll go with Alex to buy these ones."

"Very well," Arthur said, shuffling off with his own stack of books.

"Sorry for the mess," Albus said, looking back at the unshelved piles they left in the section. "I can go put them away in a mo."

"Not a problem, that's my job," Alex said. "It's so sweet to see how you are with him."

"Well, he's very excited to get on with these projects."

"What is it he's working on?" Alex went around the other side of the counter to the register. Albus couldn't help but realize how smart it was not to have Grandpa Weasley with him as she used the computer to ring him up.

"No idea actually," Albus said. "He won't say. I just have to keep him from cutting off any limbs or burning himself."

"He seems to be doing better than my grandpapa," Alex said. "He just sits watching the telly."

"Really?" Albus said, perking up.

"All the time," Alex replied. "Usually he zones out on reruns, but I've caught him watching whatever's on programming. It would be good to get him out of his chair from time to time."

Albus had learned about televisions in Muggle Studies. It was some kind of a muggle past time. Aunt Hermione had told them about going to movies when she was young as well. James went to one or two, but Albus had never thought it sounded like much fun sitting there staring at a screen for hours. Suddenly he saw the use of it. He wondered if he could make a television work at the Burrow. There had to be some sort of adjustments he could make.

"Where do you buy one of these tellys?" Albus asked. Alex gave him a strange look. "I mean, any suggestions on the best kind? I've never really bought one."

Alex's confused expression turned to an intrigued smile. "Well, there are some new flat screen models out," she said. "I don't know much about the details on that, but now's not a bad time to buy one. I saw some decent sales just down the street."

She took the money Albus gave her and handed him a bag with the few books before they walked back to the sitting lounge, where Arthur was in the middle of one of the other titles.

"So interesting, Al," Arthur said. "Look at the clamps they use when making a table! It holds it all together while the glue dries. Glue! I tell you, brilliant!"

"It's time to go, Grandpa," Albus said. "Mum is probably wondering where we're at."

"Alright, alright," he said, grunting as he stood from the armchair. Alex offered a hand and he patted hers between his own. She lead them out of the shop as a few other people came in.

"Why didn't you ask that nice young muggle out?" Arthur asked as the door closed behind them.

Albus laughed. "Why would I do that?"

"She was interested."

"No she wasn't," Albus said.

Arthur stopped and gave Albus a knowing look. "I had eight children, countless grandchildren, and have seen that look plenty… that's how someone looks when they're hoping to be noticed."

Arthur turned and walked along the sidewalk, stepping in front of Albus. He whistled as he walked and Albus turned towards the window. Alex was chancing glances through the glass and smiled as her eye caught Albus's. Albus gave a half wave, then hurried to catch up to Arthur.

* * *

Eric had gone camping for the weekend. Emily made the most of the open Saturday, running errands, reorganizing her closet, and getting a casserole made for her week of lunches. The next Wednesday was her and Eric's one year anniversary and when he talked about being gone over the weekend, he promised that they would have a nice night out then.

Emily looked at the clock. Aunt Josephine was expecting her at seven for a movie night. Josephine had once dated a muggle man who worked for the U.S. army. He introduced her to lots of muggle things, but the one that stuck was movies. He died at war and Josephine didn't talk much about him, but Emily had the impression he was the one. He was Josephine's Eric, so to speak. Aunt Josie never did get married, though she dated on and off. And in the end, she kept his television. Her and Emily watched movies almost every Saturday night when Emily lived with her. Now they planned such gatherings when both of them were free.

Emily had at least a few hours to go into the school and get some of her lessons prepared before going to Aunt Josie's. She needed to be sure she had everything in order if she was going to be out late Wednesday, and she certainly planned to be out late.

She made it through the Academy's halls, using her wand to carry a large box of cushions and beanbags in front of her. She let them land in a corner of her classroom, walking around and getting the room back in order. When she finally went to sit down, the reality of just how long it had been since she'd cleaned her desk struck. Emily sat with a sigh, shuffling through the papers, throwing half of them away.

All of the student's scrolls from the last assignment were laid in a row. Emily thought she could empty the box and put them in there to take home and grade. With a glass of wine. Grading always was easier with a glass of wine. She opened the drawers and shuffled things around. Emily wasn't sure it was any neater, but at least she had removed all the broken quills sitting there.

Emily sat back, looking at the seven mugs. Her principal, Hugo Patterson, made a joke the other day that if anyone needed more dishes they could just go to the charms classroom. He wasn't entirely wrong.

She picked up one, then used her wand to levitate the rest in front of her, making her way to the staff room. The hallways were dim as the light outside was already disappearing. She looked outside and saw that snow was starting to fall. The first snow of the year. Emily always loved fresh snow, lying in a blanket of soft pureness on the ground. It seemed like the perfect symbol of hope. Maybe more than spring blossoms, even.

The light showed through the crack at the bottom of the staff room door. Emily wondered who was here. It was probably Fiona, Emily thought. Fiona was one of the older teachers at the academy, having taught history for nearly four decades. She was a mentor to Emily when she first started. Of course, Emily had her Aunt Josephine to talk to for general feedback and advice, but it was helpful to have Fiona and her quick sarcasm to make her feel better about difficult students and administrative red tape that first year.

Emily smiled, ready to greet Fiona when she opened the door. Instead, across the room Grete Miller was pushed up against the counter's edge of the small kitchenette. Her back was arched and her skirt was edging up on her thigh with fingers pressed into her flesh. Grete's mouth was firmly preoccupied and it took Emily a moment to register what she was seeing.

Eric. He was camping, she told herself. He said he was camping. He told her he was camping. His hand traveled up and under Grete's skirt and Emily dropped the whole lot of levitating mugs.

Grete and Eric broke apart as Emily's stomach twisted, her heart pounded.

Eric pulled back, his hands off Grete as she hopped down from the counter, wiping at her mouth and pulling down her skirt.

"Em," Eric said. "You didn't say you were coming to work today."

Emily closed her eyes, unable to breathe. Eric moved towards her.

"Em?" Eric said. "I… you weren't supposed to… I can explain."

He was standing right in front of her now, the pieces of broken mugs around his feet. Eric reached out, touching her arm.

Fury boiled up and Emily wound her arm back, lobbing her hand with the last mug at Eric's head. Grete screamed as the mug broke, the ceramic knocking Eric sideways and cutting into Emily's hand. Eric reached up, holding the side of his head while Emily dropped the broken off handle and held her fist into her side. It hurt, but it didn't hurt nearly as much as her heart.

Emily turned, striding down the other direction in the hallway.

"Emily!" Eric said. He stood unsteadily and followed.

"Don't talk to me," she growled behind her shoulder. She had to get to the courtyard. She could apparate from there.

"Just hear me out, baby," he said.

Emily couldn't even form words as she walked faster. She pushed the door out to the courtyard. Eric pushed through the other door, cutting her off and grabbing her arms to stop her.

"Listen, I know I screwed up, baby," he said. "Emily, I didn't… just… let's go sit down and talk this out."

Emily blinked. He wanted to talk. Grete's lipstick was still smeared across his upper lip. It was pink. Homewrecker pink, Emily thought. Eric was still talking at her and not a word registered. All she could do was look at that color, staining every memory of the last several months. Every time he had ditched their plans, made excuses, had sudden out of town plans… had he been lying? Had he always been with Grete? Eric was bleeding where she hit him and there was a large lump developing.

"Em, talk to me, baby, please," he said.

Emily shook herself out of the stupor. She gathered the spit from her mouth and let if fly into Eric's face. As his eyes closed, Emily jerked her knee up into his groin. Eric collapsed, holding himself as Emily turned and disapparated.

Emily's head reeled as she stood in her aunt's living room. Aunt Josie had already brought out the television and there were bowls of popcorn sitting on the coffee table for them.

"Emily?" Josephine called. Her footsteps clicked from the kitchen. "Are you here already? I wasn't expecting you for another hour at least. I was trying to make some… Emily?"

Josephine stopped, looking at Emily. She rushed forward, examining her hand. She pulled out her wand, healing the cut.

"Emily, what happened sweetie?"

"He was cheating on me," Emily said. Tears fell out with the words as shock turned into betrayal. "Eric was cheating on me."

"Oh, honey," Josephine said, pulling Emily into her.

Emily covered her eyes, crying buckets of tears as her aunt rubbed her back, whispering encouragements. Emily couldn't stop seeing them, making out in the staff room. She was certain she would never stop seeing them.

* * *

"Eat some more, Dad," Ginny insisted, shoveling more beans and rice onto his plate.

Albus was surprised that Grandpa Weasley ate whatever was put in front of him. At the Burrow it didn't seem to matter what Albus made, he scooped a bit on his plate, ate, then made his way back out to the shed. Albus would have to try this method of putting the food on the plate himself.

"You should have seen all the books on construction, Ginny dear," he said. "There were books all on making furniture! Nails and hammers and all sorts of things!"

"Didn't they teach you about that stuff in Muggle Studies?" Albus asked. He had a vague idea that his grandfather enjoyed muggle things as he grew up, but Albus had never experienced the obsession so directly as he had since moving in.

"I didn't take muggle studies, actually," Arthur said.

"Why not?" Harry asked, sitting back in front of his empty plate.

"I didn't really know what I wanted to do back in school. Fell into the muggle relations job by accident, really. Molly wanted to do Ancient Runes and Divinations once we had electives."

"You chose your electives because of Mum?" Ginny asked, laughing. "I didn't know that."

Arthur smiled. "Sure did," he said. "Ended up doing the Hogwarts chorus because of her too, actually."

"I didn't know you and Molly sang," Harry commented.

"Of course I don't," Arthur scoffed. "Molly could carry a tune okay, but she joined the choir because she liked Jupiter Brakman, who sang. Then I did it because I liked her. Pretty sure I would have been kicked out if it weren't open for the whole school. Actually, they may have been ready to kick me out anyway when I decided to quit on my own."

He shared one story after another for the next twenty minutes, eventually falling into the lull, looking into space as the others all exchanged glances, uncertain of how to proceed.

"Albus, would you mind helping me with the dishes and Harry can show you how to use that new telly, Dad," Ginny suggested.

This seemed to perk Arthur back up as he followed Harry into the living room. Albus stood, helping to gather all the plates and bowls. Ginny turned on the water. With a flick of the wand, the soap studs bubbled up.

"How are you holding on, love?" she asked Albus.

"I'm fine," Albus said. "I just need to get some more work done, really."

"Well, it will be good for you to get away next week," Ginny said. "I'll be by Sunday night if you wanted to get to Maryland earlier."

"I can't go now, Mum," Albus said. "I'll just have to put off my vacation time."

"Albus," Ginny said, a reprimanding tone seeping in. "Lily has been looking forward to your visit for months. She wrote and told me they're planning a trip with you up to Salem and the girls are—"

"Mum, I would love to, but come on!" Albus said. "I hardly have a moment to breathe between work and checking on Grandpa every hour."

"That's why you need to take the time," Ginny argued. "Sweetheart, you're burning the candles at both ends and you need to step away."

"All well and good, except do you know how much there would be to come back to?"

Albus grabbed plates and a dish towel to dry as Ginny continued cleaning.

"There will always be more piling up, Albus. There's always more work. I don't want to see you become so obsessed with it, you miss out on other parts of life. You run the risk of destroying every meaningful relationship that way."

"If you're talking about Maggie, that was ruined because she didn't understand that we'd only been going out for a few weeks," Albus said.

"You were the one who brought her here for dinner," Ginny said, smirking at him.

"No, she was the one who weaseled her way into an invitation," Albus clarified.

"Just go visit your sister," Ginny said, pulling the plug at the sink and flicking the water on her hand at Albus. "And don't kill yourself working."

* * *

Emily managed to avoid Grete and Eric for nearly four days. There was a staff meeting every Monday morning. Emily was generally vigilant in attending, but found a reason to excuse herself so she wouldn't have to see them. Fiona came to see her at lunch and Emily gave her a brief overview of what had happened.

"Want me to poison the jackass's coffee?" Fiona suggested. "There's this great potion my husband knows that will make his you-know-what shrink until—"

"As tempting as that is, I think I just need to not see him," Emily said.

Eric hadn't shown up in her classroom so far, though every afternoon she got back to her apartment to find vases of flowers sitting on the porch. She should have thrown them away. Emily knew that. But there was an idiotic part of her that didn't want to believe she and Eric were done. So instead of throwing out the flowers, Emily would take them into the house, finding a space with sunlight for them. Her kitchen counters were almost full by now.

Emily dismissed her last class on Wednesday and sat at her desk. She only had one mug now. She didn't want to go into the staff room, so she brought her own from home and charmed coffee rather than brewing it. It was never quite as good, but at least she didn't have to cross paths with Eric or Grete.

There was a knock on the door, but Emily didn't hear it. She was focused on an essay from one of the sixth year students, marking notes and points in the margins.

"Em?" Eric's voice hit her like a rock to the head.

"Get out of my room," she said, turning back to the scroll. Her eyes couldn't focus anymore.

"Emily, I understand you're upset," Eric said. He had a bouquet of flowers in one hand. "It's our anniversary, though… come to dinner with me?"

Emily looked over at Eric, dumbfounded. "It would be our anniversary, if you hadn't been screwing Grete Miller."

Eric stood in front of Emily's desk, set down the flowers in front of her, and leaned on the edge. "That's over," he said. "Totally over. It was a mistake. All I want is you."

Emily scoffed.

"Come on, baby, let's just… go out and talk."

"Get out of my classroom, and stop calling me baby," Emily said.

"Look, I just want us to be alright," Eric said. "Just… tell me when you're ready to talk. Okay?"

He waited for a response, but Emily didn't give him one. Eric sighed and walked around the desk. She ignored him as he leaned down and kissed her cheek. Emily closed her eyes and clenched her teeth.

"Happy anniversary, baby," he said sadly. He turned around and walked out of her classroom.

Emily picked up the bouquet of flowers and smelled their blooms. They were sweeter than she could have ever imagined.

Unable to concentrate any longer, Emily put the flowers into the mug, adding water to it before rolling up the essay and leaving school early. She apparated to the front lawn of Lily and Lorcan's house in Maryland.

Several years before, Lily and her family almost all moved to a house an hour north of Baltimore. It was a pretty, historic house that her Aunt had helped them find when the British Ministry of Magic pulled up false charges to arrest Lily's dad.

Emily had been excited to have Lily around. They had been close friends since they were twelve, though they had seen each other only occasionally while in school and even less after graduating and moving onto real life. Lily hated moving to the states, but for various reasons couldn't go home. It was a happy twist when it turned out Lily learned to love Maryland and was the only one who stayed when the others all moved home to England. Lorcan had gotten a job in D.C. and they moved to a newer family home the next town over from where they had lived before.

Emily was more glad than ever to have Lily nearby. She walked up to the house, knocking on the door.

"I want to get it, Mum," Abigail said loudly from inside.

Emily smiled as it took a while before the door opened.

"Aunt Emmy!" Abigail yelled. The twins came running as Abigail jumped into Emily's arms, the pair of redheads wrapping themselves around her legs.

"All my girls!" Emily declared with a laugh. Lily stood smiling behind the group, full pregnant belly and Harriet in her arms.

"This is a nice surprise," Lily said. "Let her in, girls."

They didn't move, but laughed as Emily struggled to walk into the house with their weight hanging on her. Emily gave Lily a kiss on the cheek.

"I thought you had a big night planned," Lily said. Emily gave her a look. Lily raised an eyebrow and nodded. "Abigail, why don't you and your sisters go color something for your Aunt Emmy?"

"Okay!" Abigail shouted enthusiastically. "Come on Callie and Car-car."

They all giggled as they followed Abigail's lead. The oldest looked like Lorcan, with the curly, honey brown hair and serious eyes. The twins were like carbon copies of Lily herself, though they too had picked up on Lorcan's curls, adding to the wild look of their bright red hair.

"What happened?" Lily asked.

Emily explained everything, telling Lily about every horrible detail. She whispered certain parts, having learned her lesson in assuming the girls weren't listening when Abigail was four and repeated a rather risque story Emily had told Lily about.

"I can't believe the nerve," Lily said.

"You know what pisses me off most?" Emily asked. "That he used that 'I want us to be alright' bullshit. Like whether I forgive him or not has anything to do with _my_ well being. If he cared so damn much, why wouldn't he ask if _I_ was alright."

"Seriously. Well, don't you dare let that arse wear you down, Emily."

"Wasn't planning on it," Emily said. She paused for a moment. "But… people can change, right?"

"You aren't serious," Lily countered, setting Harriet down as they sat. "You deserve so much better."

"Yeah," Emily said with a sigh.

The problem was she wasn't sure she believed anyone deserved anything, really. Her Aunt Josephine deserved to find love if anyone did, but the one that might have fulfilled that role was killed. Then there was her sister Taylor, who was all but married to a coworker named Xander, but they never bothered to make anything official and probably never would. Maybe that was better. If Xander was found with some other woman, maybe it would be less hurtful than what happened with Eric and Grete. Or maybe he could just be honest about the fact instead of sneaking around. "I just… I hate being single."

"Oh, Em," Lily sighed. "Look, I bet we can find you someone fun. You know, no pressure or anything, just someone to have a laugh with. I'll ask Lorcan about who he knows from work, maybe."

"Yeah, that might be good," Emily said halfheartedly. Callie ran into the room with a page covered in stick figures. "Oh, look how pretty!"

"That's Mum and that's Dad," Callie said, pointing to each figure as she showed off her artwork. "Me, Cara, Abby, Grandma, Grandpa, Heath—"

"Who's Heath?" Emily asked.

"My husband," Callie said very matter of factly.

"At the preschool," Lily said with a grin. "He shared his sandwich with Callie last week, so it's all very official."

"Well, that's a keeper," Emily said, glad she had decided to come here. Callie was making her feel so much better than she had since Saturday.

Callie went through about five more people, then finally pointed to a figure with hoop earrings.

"That's you Aunt Emmy!" she declared.

"Oh, I don't know if I'm _that_ pretty."

"Sure you are," Callie said seriously.

"Well who is that standing by me?" Emily asked.

"That's Uncle Al," Callie declared, as though Emily should have recognized this immediately. "You're holding hands," she added, pointing to where two lines crossed.

"Albus is coming into town for a week starting Sunday or Monday," Lily said. "The girls haven't stopped talking about it."

"He's going to buy us candy," Callie declared.

"That sounds great," Emily said with a smile.

"You should definitely join us when you can in the evenings," Lily said.

Emily took a deep breath. That's just what she needed. Something to do. Anything to do. "Are you sure? I don't want to interrupt family time."

"Of course I'm sure," Lily said. "Besides you're family, too."

In the years since Lily was around, Emily had never been so grateful for the series of events that brought her and Lorcan here. Callie was still going on about the picture when Abigail and Cara brought their own drawings, ready to tell her all about them.


	3. Donor Dinner

_**Donor Dinner**_

"Put it down," Ginny said, her wand pointed threateningly at Albus.

"It's just a few owls to answer, Mum!"

"Down," she repeated with a tilt of her head.

Albus rolled his eyes and put down his work bag. "There."

"Take the rolls of parchment from your duffle, now," she added.

Albus huffed, but set down his bag, unzipping the top and pulling out a handful of scrolls, setting them on the table. Ginny smiled, pleased with herself, as he zipped it back up.

"I found a bunch of old muggle construction videos," Albus said. "They keep Grandpa preoccupied if you need to go out. If you buy him anymore, you have to go to old thrift shops and find something they call VHS. I bought an old player thing and apparently they're the only ones that work in it."

"I can take care of Grandpa. You just go have fun. And _don't_ spend the entire time thinking about work," Ginny said. "Did you ever give your owl a proper name, by the way?"

Albus gave a noncommittal shrug and Ginny pursed her lips at him with a half smile.

"Alright, off you go," she said again, kissing his cheek before Albus walked out into the garden with the portkey.

Albus wondered for a moment if he could summon some of the work and head off before his mum could take them back, but he saw her gathering them up in her arms through the window. He tapped the portkey, activating the tin and was pulled up and away. Albus landed in Lily and Lorcan's backyard. The whole lot of them stood, waiting. A chorus of squeals made him smile as three little bodies ran to tackle him.

Albus fell back in the grass and they crawled all over—Abby tentatively and the twins with carefree abandon, Cara hanging around his neck. Harriet ran awkwardly along the grass behind them, her toddler legs still trying to find their grounding. Albus held out his arms, laughing as she ran to him. He rocked back laying on the ground.

"Uncle Al," Abby said, standing over his face. "I have a loose tooth… see?"

She bared her teeth and used her tongue to wiggle one on the bottom right.

"Wow," Albus said, sitting back up. "You know, I have a spell that could get that out right quick."

Abby's eyes widened as she clamped both hands over her mouth and shook her head.

"I've already tried that one," Lily said, walking closer as Lorcan came beside the group, picking up Albus's bag in one hand and extricating Callie with his other arm. "She absolutely refuses to let me near it."

Albus carefully stood, holding Harriet as he did so. Cara jumped at his leg and he leaned down throwing the four year old over his shoulder.

"Oh, careful," Lily laughed. "Don't go breaking your back."

Albus followed her into the house through the back door that went into a mud room as Abigail told him all about school and learning how to write in sentences. "I wrote a story for you, Uncle Al," she said.

"I can't wait to read it."

"I hope you don't mind, but our guest room is a converted attic. It stays nice and warm, at least. And you shouldn't hear the girls if they get up too early," Lily said. "Lorcan will take your things up."

"Yeah, that's fine," he said.

Lily lead him into the kitchen where Emily Davis sat at the table.

Albus couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Emily. Definitely not since they were teenagers. When the rest of his family lived in Maryland and Albus came quite often, he knew Lily was going out with her on weekends, but Lily more often met her at a bar or wherever they were going.

Not that he had been aching to see her. Between the times Emily came to visit Lily or Lily visited Emily, Albus always preferred the latter. Somehow, when Emily and Lily were teamed up, he ended up the target of all their jokes.

"You remember Emily, right?" Lily asked.

"Of course," Albus said. "How have you been?"

"I've been alright," she said with a strained smile. "You?"

"Good, good," Albus said.

Even with a forced smile, she was pretty. With a round face, pale skin with a perfect natural blush, large blue eyes, and full, dark hair, Emily reminded Albus of a collection of porcelain dolls a girl he dated several years before owned. It just added to the reasons he mentally clumped her in with the popular, mean girls at Hogwarts.

Of course the sad way her shoulders slumped gave Albus pause. Abigail ran over and sat on Emily's lap.

"Aunt Emmy and Uncle Al here at the same time!" she declared. "This is the happiest day of my life!"

They all laughed and Albus put Cara down. She ran over to Lily, wrapping around her leg. Albus sat on the opposite side of the table from Emily as Lily brought over a pitcher of juice and several cups. "I can't remember how far ahead you are," Lily said. "What time did you leave?"

"It was eight at home," Albus said. "So, five hours."

"And how's Grandpa doing?"

"Oh, you know… distracting himself with batteries. Keeping me on my toes with the occasional explosions. The usual."

Lily shook her head.

"Which grandpa is this?" Emily asked. "Rolf?"

"No, _our_ grandpa," Lily said. "Grandpa Weasley. I don't think you ever met them when you came. Our grandma died this year. Albus moved into their house to help out recently."

"Well, that's nice," Emily said.

"Yeah, it's great," Albus said. "Except it's impossible to get anything accomplished. I got a telly and that's helped."

"A what?" Lily asked.

"A television," Emily answered for him. "My aunt has one at her house. We watch movies on it some weekends."

"Really?" Albus said. "I could have used your help in figure the damned thing out."

"Uncle Al said damned!" Cara shouted.

Lorcan entered the kitchen, carrying Callie under his arm like a sack of flour. "Don't tattle, Cara," he said.

They talked a while longer about Grandpa Weasley and Lily asked about what new work Albus was doing. For about an hour Abigail brought out coloring books and crayons, making Albus help her color princesses, teddy bears, and unicorns. "Make that one look like Aunt Emmy," Abigail instructed.

"I was going to make it look like you, Abby," he said.

"No," she said, putting up a finger of warning. It was a gesture that seemed to be passed down from one woman to another in their family. "Aunt Emmy," she repeated.

Albus grabbed a black crayon, following orders and coloring the girl on the page with dark hair, blue eyes, and choosing purple for the dress to match the shirt Emily wore now. Albus was already tired by the time they were cooking dinner. He got up to help, offering to make the sauce for the chicken.

"You know how to cook?" Emily asked skeptically.

Albus glanced back at her. She had a smirk and he found himself irritated. "Why do you sound so surprised?" he asked.

"I just haven't met many single men who know how to cook," Emily said. She stood, pulling out a spoon and dipping it into the sauce he was making. She blew on it and tasted. "That's really good, actually."

"Yes, well, some of us don't feel like eating bachelor food for the rest of our lives," Albus said. Emily went to dip her spoon in again and Albus caught her wrist. "Don't."

Emily tossed the spoon into the sink and grabbed a clean one, dipping it in for another taste as Albus shook his head.

Soon they all sat around the table eating dinner.

"So, the plans for this week," Lily said, cutting up food for Harriet in her high chair. "Mum told me I'm to try and get you to have at least a few lie-ins."

"Mum needs to stop micromanaging."

"Can't ask a leopard to change their spots," Lily said, grinning at him. "Anyway, whenever you're up for it tomorrow I thought we'd go to Salem."

"Portkey?" Albus asked.

"Actually, since it's a popular wizarding location they have doorways set up at several cities around the country here," Lily said. "Easier with the kids."

"You going to the one in Philadelphia?" Emily asked.

Lily nodded. "We'll take the bus and go from there. Figured we could get the big outing done early in the week."

"Sounds good," Albus said, scooping more green beans onto his plate. He wondered if Grandpa was eating more with his mum taking care of things. "What else?"

"Well, there's some things to see in Baltimore. Or we could meet Lorcan one evening down in DC after he's done with work," Lily said. "Maybe Thursday? You can come Thursday, right Em?"

Emily let out a breath. "That depends," she said. "There's this… thing at work. An annual dinner they hold for donors and they like for the staff to come. They cancel school on Friday and everything, but I'm trying to get out of it. Fiona thinks I should go."

"Why wouldn't you?" Albus asked.

Emily looked at Lily. They seemed to have some secret conversation in their glances.

"We can plan DC for Wednesday and you can come," Lily suggested. "But maybe Albus can go to the dinner with you? I mean, if it's something where they're allowing dates."

"Yeah they are," Emily said, tilting her head in thought.

"What?" Albus asked. "Why?"

"It would probably be easier going with someone," Lily shrugged.

He sat back as Emily looked at him. "Yeah, that might be okay," she said.

Albus felt heat rise up his neck. Emily was appraising him like a mediocre piece of meat. The way she said it would be okay, he got the feeling he was the lesser of two evils. He hated it, but kept his mouth shut.

"Alright, so Albus will spend Thursday night with you," Lily said. "Then Friday Abigail has a play at school. I'm not having her go the rest of the week, but she wanted you to come see, Albus."

"That sounds great," Albus muttered, digging into his food.

"Getting tired?" Lorcan asked.

"Yeah, just a bit," Albus said, scratching his head and leaning back.

"I want to read Uncle Al a bedtime story," Abigail said.

"Alright," Lily said. "But then you must make him go straight to bed."

Abigail laughed at this and they all shuffled around the kitchen, grabbing dishes.

"I'll get those," Emily said, taking plates from Albus as Abigail grabbed him by the hand, dragging him into the living room.

Albus sat on the rug in front of the couch. Abigail settled into his lap while Cara and Callie climbed all over the place, primarily on his shoulders, knocking his glasses askew at one point. He paid attention to Abigail as she read an illustrated book. About halfway through, she ignored the words on the page, running her finger under the text while simultaneously making up her own story.

"Are you sure that's what it says?" Albus asked with a grin.

"Yes. And stop interrupting," Abigail told him.

She finished up, closing the book with a confident nod.

"That was the best bedtime story I've had in ages," Albus said.

"And now it's time for everyone to go to bed," Lily instructed, walking into the room. Emily leaned against the doorway between the living room and kitchen, arms folded and smiling at the girls. "Say goodnight to Uncle Al and Aunt Emmy."

The girls peppered him with kisses before moving along and Albus stretched out, putting his hands behind his head.

Lily carried over a basket of clean clothes, sitting right next to Albus to fold. Lorcan corralled the three older ones as Emily held onto Harriet, bouncing her around and pacing on the other side of the room. "There are towels and some extra blankets in the closet in your room," Lily said. "Did you need anything else?"

"Just enough energy to get my ass up there," he said with a yawn.

Lily smiled. "I'm glad you decided to come," she said.

"Me too," Albus replied. With a groan, he pushed himself to his feet, gave Lily a kiss on the cheek and said goodbye to Emily, heading up the stairs. As he crashed on the bed, Albus hated the thought that came. His mother was right. He did need this vacation.

* * *

Emily finished with the stack of plates with a flick of her wand, setting them on the shelf.

"Thank you so much," Lily said, letting out a heavy breath.

"Thanks for dinner," Emily replied with a smile. She walked over, stopping in the doorway and watched as Cara and Callie moved around like hummingbirds. Albus sat there as though there weren't two little monkeys crawling on him, listening to Abigail, whose story had definitely taken a tangent.

"Are you sure that's what it says?" Albus asked, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"Yes. And stop interrupting," Abigail told him.

Emily laughed quietly to herself as Albus obeyed. Abigail was definitely the leader of the girls. A decision maker to the core. She was almost surprised that Albus didn't push the questions. Emily remembered him being a bit of a know it all. There was always something someone misspoke and he never just let it go. Of course, he was older now. They both were. She supposed how he acted at fifteen wasn't a fair benchmark. It was fun watching how much the girls adored him.

Emily's heart panged. This was the type of scene she had wanted to see with Eric. Not nieces, of course, but children of their own. A little over a week ago Emily was sure this was the road they were heading towards and now she was heartbroken not only because of what Eric did, but because of everything she lost as a result.

Lily walked into the room at the end of the story, calling for them all to go to bed. Lorcan rounded up the girls and Emily reached out for Harriet, already in her pajamas. Harriet wrapped her arms around Emily's neck as Emily walked her back and forth. She made noises and Harriet smiled, though it never lasted long as the toddler was grumpy, tired, and fighting sleep.

Lily talked with Albus for a bit and he finally stood, his eyes droopy with exhaustion.

"Good to see you again, Emily," he said.

"You too," she replied. "We'll see you later this week."

"Yeah," he added, then turned and took the stairs up.

Emily adjusted Harriet in her arms, cradling her across her body and bouncing her up and down as her eyes opened and closed.

"He really doesn't have to go with me if he changes his mind," Emily told Lily.

"Albus will be fine," Lily said. "I'm guessing he rarely goes out anymore. It's not like he's going to see much action with us here all week. Maybe just take him out to a bar or something after?"

"Yeah, that would be fine," Emily said, looking off.

"What is it?" Lily asked.

"I'm just thinking of what Thursday will be like," Emily said.

"Has he tried talking to you again?"

"No," Emily said. "There's still flowers on my porch almost every day. And he sent me an owl."

"What did it say?" Lily asked, her upper lip lifting in disgust.

"Mostly the same. _Talk to me, baby. I want to work things out_ ," she mimicked. Lily rolled her eyes. "He said it wasn't just his fault all this happened."

"He _what_?!"

"Yeah," Emily said.

"You aren't buying that line, right?"

"I don't know," Emily said. "He said he'd been feeling insecure and—"

"Stop," Lily said. "Nothing you could have done justified what he was doing."

Emily nodded, looking down at little Harriet in her arms. There was a part of her that wanted to believe this was her fault as well. Maybe then she had some control over fixing it. Then Emily thought about all the girls she taught, all the times she told them not to be defined by these idiotic teenage boys, all the moments she told them to be strong. She was glad to have Lily to tell her these things now.

"Well, if you bring a date he'll have to see it's over," Lily said.

"Yeah," Emily said. "So long as he doesn't realize it's just a favor."

"I'll prep Albus," Lily promised.

"I guess I'll owe him a few rounds," Emily said with a smile, leaning over and kissing Harriet's cheek, the little girl fast asleep in her arms.

* * *

They had to be careful with how loudly the girls commented as they went through the various museums. Albus was impressed in how the muggle and wizarding information worked side by side, little charms placed so that only wizards could see the extras. The upkeep on such cloaking charms had to be an extraordinary amount of work.

"Mum, did any of them go to Hogwarts?" Abigail asked.

"No dear," Lily whispered. "They might have gone to school here. Be a little more quiet for the muggles, sweetheart."

Albus had Callie on his shoulders. Cara and Harriet were in the stroller as they continued to the park with benches. It was unseasonably warm for the start of November. A warm spell, Lily said. They were supposed to get snow by the weekend.

"There's an ice cream truck, Uncle Al," Abigail pointed out.

"Don't be rude, Abby," Lily said.

"Oh, she just knows the right veins to tap, Lil," he said, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket and sorting through some of the muggle money he had gotten before coming. "I get two bites," he added as he gave Abigail money and followed her over. They grabbed ice creams for everyone and Albus made the mistake of letting Callie hold her own right over his head.

"Uh-oh," Callie said as it plopped into his hair.

Lily laughed as Albus wiped the ice cream off the top of his head, knowing he couldn't really get it clean with so many muggles around.

"My ice cream," Callie cried when she realized the full extent of her blunder. Albus picked her off his shoulders, leaving Lily to comfort her while he went back to get another. They sat around a bench, this time Albus helping Callie hold her cone.

"You're so sweet, Al," Lily said as he brought her back one this time as well.

"So what's the deal with Thursday?" Albus asked.

Lily took a deep breath, looking down at Abigail. Probably to make sure she wasn't listening intently. "Emily's ex works at the school."

"Oh, okay," Albus said. Still confused. "I mean, isn't that just the risk of dating a co-worker though?"

"Not quite. It's, er, worse than that," Lily said. "She walked in on a certain scene in the staff room."

Albus nodded, taking this in. "So two coworkers are the problem then."

"Yes," Lily confirmed. "And it was only a couple weeks ago. So if you could just… seem interested. It will make him back off a bit."

"Wait, he's still—"

"Yeah," Lily interrupted him. "Wants her to work things out with him."

Albus scoffed. Emily wasn't his favorite person, but even he felt bad for her. "Alright," he said. "I guess I can do that."

"You're such a knight in shining armor," Lily said, reaching out to cup Albus's chin.

Albus swatted her hand away. "Shut up," he said, failing in his attempt to scowl.

* * *

Arthur tried all week to bring up the Halloween Ball. They only held one every few years and he couldn't imagine a better time to make some real magic happen with Molly. It was their third year and the more he got to know her, the more he was certain he was in love with her. Only, she didn't seem to know this.

Billius didn't help. He embarrassed Arthur in front of Molly every chance he got. It was why Arthur didn't ask Molly to the Ball on Tuesday. Billius was busy at Quidditch practice now, though, so it was Arthur's chance. Maybe his only one.

The portrait door swung open and Molly came through with her dorm mate, Lyra. They were chatting and Arthur stood up, wiping the palms of his hands on his robes. "Molly?" he said, jumping right in front of the pair of them.

Molly's eyes widened as she stopped in her tracks. "Hi, Arthur," she said.

"Can I… talk to you?" he asked, looking between her and Lyra. "Alone?"

Lyra stifled a laugh, covering her mouth. Arthur thought his freckles might burn off, his face felt so hot. Molly gave Lyra a side glance. "I'll be up in a minute," she told Lyra.

"Okay," Lyra said with a shrug, her overly large front teeth clear with her grin as she turned and went up the girls' staircase.

"Yes?" Molly asked, pulling Arthur's attention back.

He cleared his throat over and over.

"What is it?" she asked again.

"I w-wanted to see if you'd go to the Halloween Ball w-with me," he said, his mouth going dry.

Molly's expression was one of complete surprise. "Oh," she said. "I'm flattered, really."

Arthur's whole body fell, looking down at her tone, knowing what was coming.

"Okay," Molly said.

Arthur looked back up. "Really?"

Molly smiled. "Yeah, really," she said. "Why are you so surprised? I think it will be fun. I just… have to tell Braxton that I can't go with him after all."

"Wait, you're going to ditch someone else?" Arthur asked.

"Well, I mean, I was hoping that Jupiter would ask me, but I guess he asked a girl from his house and year. And I like Braxton, but I don't know him very well," Molly said. "It will be more fun to go with you."

Various emotions cycled through Arthur's mind. The first was a triumphant moment. She'd rather spend time with him than Braxton. Then came the realization that she was still hung up on Jupiter. Jupiter was a year older than them in Hufflepuff, but he had a reputation in the school for going through a new girlfriend each week. It might just be a matter of time before he set his eye on Molly.

Then Arthur remembered something his mum always told them when it came to dating. She always told them to make the kind decision, rather than the selfish one, and to expect the same from the girls they asked out. Braxton wasn't a close friend. He was in Ravenclaw, which meant they doubled up for Herbology classes. He was quiet. Arthur hadn't gotten to know the guy himself, but Braxton had always been accommodating.

"Er," Arthur stalled, scratching the top of his head.

"What is it?" Molly asked. "Don't you think it will be fun?"

"Well, I did," Arthur said, avoiding her eyes. "But what about Braxton?"

"What about him?" Molly said.

"I just… don't know if I feel right about asking you to ditch him."

Molly laughed a little. "It's not like we're going steady."

"Yeah, but what's to keep you from ditching me if Jupiter also asks you in the next week?" Arthur asked. His face was red again. He knew it. Molly was looking at him, mouth hanging open slightly. "One of the things I've always liked about you is how nice you are, Molly. So… I think I've changed my mind." He cleared his throat, but didn't have anything else to say. Molly's eyes were fixed on him.

Awkwardly, Arthur turned, leaving her alone in the common room. He walked up the steps and into his dormitory. Arthur laid back in his bed, staring at the drapes.

He shouldn't have said that, he thought. He'd bungled things for good. That was it. He'd never get another shot at Molly Prewett and he knew it. Arthur reached over for a pillow pressing it against his face and groaning. He did this another dozen times before finally falling asleep.

When he woke in the morning, there was a note right next to him on his pillow. His name was written in a loopy cursive, the last letter extending into a big circle around his name. Arthur opened it up slowly, swallowing.

 _Dear Arthur,_

 _I'm sorry. You were right. I'll still go with Braxton to the Ball, but can we go to Hogsmeade together in two weeks?_

 _Let me know,_

 _Molly_

She signed her name with a heart in place of the 'o' and Arthur felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. Hogsmeade weekend. That was by far better than some stupid ball.

* * *

Emily paced in the living room. She would see Eric tonight. She wondered if he would sit next to Grete. He hadn't left her flowers for the last few days, so maybe he had finally given up on the idea of reconciliation.

There was a knock at the door and Emily opened it. Albus stood, his hands in his pockets and eyebrows raised. "Wow, you're well dressed," Emily said. Albus generally dressed in a style that could only be described as _uninformed_ when it came to fashion. Every time she'd been over this week, he'd been wearing ill fitting jeans and branded t-shirts.

"Lily likes turning me into a mannequin," Albus said with a shrug.

Emily was grateful for Lily on that count. He was certainly dressed up in comparison, though he almost looked too stiff now. Lily had dressed him in dark wash jeans that fit to his body for once, and in a colored button down shirt. Albus had this tucked in and wore a black tie, all being set off with a nice, fitted jacket. Instead of trainers, he wore leather lace up shoes.

"Okay, well come in here," Emily said. She suddenly realized just what needed to happen before they went to her school. Albus looked confused as she ushered him inside. Emily reached out, pulling his shirt from the jeans.

"What are you doing?" he asked. She reached up to remove the tie.

"Just making you look right," she replied.

"Right how?" he asked.

Emily undid the top button. "Well, don't take this the wrong way, but you don't really look like the kind of guy I would actually date."

Albus blinked, his face going sour. "What's the right way to take that?"

"Okay, I'm sorry," Emily backtracked. "It just looks way more pathetic bringing someone who's obviously doing me a favor."

Albus's jaw tensed as Emily reached out, messing his hair up a bit more. He ducked away from her hand.

"Do you need the glasses to see?" she asked. They were perfectly cornered rectangular frames, easily a quarter inch thick and black.

"No, they're reading glasses."

Emily reached up to take them off, but Albus dodged her hands again, taking them off himself. He folded them, putting them into his jacket pocket and Emily froze. His eyes were amazing. She had never really noticed, the way they were hidden behind the thick, unbecoming frames. He looked at her, his striking green eyes piercing hers. Emily swallowed.

"Anything else you needed me to change?" he snapped.

"Uh, no, you look good now," she said, glad she had worn flats instead of heels. She had a feeling he'd be more disgruntled if she had wanted him to wear lifts, since he was only a few inches taller than her.

"Alright, let's go," Albus muttered.

Emily definitely owed him one, she realized. They made their way out the door and apparated to the front lawn of the school. Emily took a deep breath. Eric was probably already in there.

Albus nudged her with his elbow. "You okay?"

"Of course," she said, trying for nonchalance.

Albus reached down and took her hand in his, his fingers locking in between hers. Emily gave him a grateful smile and they made their way through the front doors.

Most of the attendants sat, filling their plates with food already. "Emily," Fiona called, waving her down.

Emily looked up at Albus and pulled him along. She looked to her left and saw Eric, his eyes narrowed as he stared at them. She turned her head purposefully and they sat next to Fiona.

"Hello, dear," Fiona said, kissing Emily's cheeks. "Who is this?"

"This is Albus Potter. Albus, this is Fiona and Reggie Lancaster," Emily said. He reached over and shook Fiona's hand, then her husband's.

"I was in town and wanted to catch up with Em," he said with a half smile.

"And where are you from?" Fiona asked.

"I grew up just outside of London, but I'm currently in Devon," he replied. "And do both of you work at the Academy?"

"Oh, no. I teach history, but Reggie actually does field research. He's about to put out a book on the history of Merpeople in the Atlantic," Fiona said.

"Fascinating," Albus said, leaning forward. "Do you speak Mermish then?"

Emily was surprised as they continued talking. Albus was smiling and engaged. He almost always deflected back to them when probed about his own work, but overall he was charming. It was like the glasses came off and this enchanting, handsome man took over. _Shit_ , she thought _, he's Superman_. Old eighties superhero movies were Emily's favorites, compared to the chick flicks her aunt preferred. Emily always thought the Clark Kent glasses disguise was a bit far fetched, but suddenly found herself eating her words on that count.

Albus's attention was pulled away by one of the donors sitting with them at the table, talking about the state of International politics. Emily looked over as Grete approached Eric. They talked for a few minutes before Eric walked away, leaving Grete there with her arms folded and a nasty look on her normally pretty face. Emily felt a decent amount of satisfaction at the moment.

She was nudged and turned her attention to Fiona on her right.

"Oh, you found a Brit," Fiona laughed quietly, grabbing her goblet. "Brava, m'dear. That should do the trick."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Please," Fiona scoffed. "You _have_ to tell me where you found him. And why didn't you bring him out to play right after all of Eric's bullshit?"

Emily smiled. Fiona would be the one to get right to the sticking point. "He's a family friend," Emily said. "He just happened to be here on vacation."

"Well, make sure you cut off a slice of that before you pass it along," Fiona whispered.

Emily rolled her eyes as the Principal called for the attention of the room. She probably would have had his speech memorized by now, if she ever listened to it. He said the same things every year: the school is what it is because of their donors, the future of the children, the dedication of the teachers, blah, blah, blah. About halfway through the speech, Albus leaned in, whispering into Emily's ear. "How long is this part?" he asked.

His breath on her skin sent a chill down Emily's spine. She turned towards him, pausing to look at his eyes again. "Probably another ten minutes," she said. "Then we can get out of here."

"I didn't mean that you need to rush out on my account," Albus said.

"Generally after this is a bunch of schmoozing around the room," Emily said. "Definitely don't need to stay for that."

"Alright, as long as you're sure."

It took closer to fifteen minutes. They applauded and Emily sat back. Albus chatted with Phileus Yarbough, sitting across the table from them, about the differences between the American Magical law system to that of England for a while. Phileus, their transfiguration teacher, was the first to make the connection to his last name being Potter, which brought on a whole other type of conversation. Albus seemed to take in stride.

"Wow, I can't believe I can say I met the famous Harry Potter's son," Phileus said. "What does your dad do nowadays?"

"Oh, same as you actually," Albus said. "He's teaching at Hogwarts."

Albus looked at Emily, raising his eyebrows. She smiled back.

"You know, I promised Albus I was going to show him some night life after dragging him here," Emily said, pushing her chair back. She noticed Eric standing from his own seat from the corner of her eye.

"It was a pleasure to meet all of you," Albus said, setting his napkin down beside his plate. He grabbed Emily's jacket, holding it out for her before they made their way towards the exit.

"That wasn't bad," Emily said to Albus as they left the light of the main hall.

"Emily?"

Emily and Albus both stopped and turned. She clenched her teeth. Eric had followed them out.

"Hey, I didn't get a chance to talk to you," he said genially, approaching them.

Albus looked at Emily. "It's okay," she said. "I'll be back in just a minute."

Albus shrugged as Eric pulled Emily a few yards away.

"What the hell, Em?" Eric hissed, hands on his hips. "I'm trying to fix things and—"

"You know what, just stop," Emily said. "There's no fixing what you did." She turned and he grabbed her arm.

"No wait, please, Emily," Eric said, his tone earnest. She turned back. He licked his lips. "Don't let it end this way. You're the one, Em. You've always been the one."

Emily had a moment where she actually felt sorry for him. The way his eyes shifted between hers, searching for some sign of hope. He moved his thumb along her arm. She steeled herself. "Well your counting has been off," she replied.

Emily reached up and removed his hand, turning and walking away from Eric. Albus looked past her as she approached.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Peachy. I think I owe you a drink," Emily said. She stopped and tried to smile up at him. She looked back at Eric as they proceeded. "I think I earned one of my own, too."


	4. Deal

**A/N:** To my fellow Americans, Happy Thanksgiving! To those abroad... I will have an extra bite of turkey on your behalf. Cheers all! Looking forward to hearing some thoughts on this chapter!

 _ **Deal**_

Emily settled at one of the tables at the back of the bar as Albus grabbed the first round. Emily protested this was supposed to be her treat, but he waved off her attempt and told her to save them a table.

"Thanks again," Emily said with a sigh. "I know I was a little… nutty. Back at my place."

Albus pressed his lips together and raised his eyebrows, but didn't vocalize his agreement.

"For what it's worth, you really shouldn't hide behind your glasses. You've got seriously gorgeous eyes."

Albus shifted uncomfortably, taking a drink from his mug. "It's interesting to see how the education system differs here," he said. "How does it work with the non-boarders?"

"We have specific floo lines set up, though some nearby students use other methods. Bus or brooms… we aren't terribly far for about half of them."

"And you attended the same academy?" Albus asked.

"No, actually. My aunt taught transfiguration at a larger school when I moved in with her."

The two exchanged stories of their school days, classwork, exams, and so on. Emily told Albus about Josephine's work in unifying the national curriculum, which she now did full time. Albus seemed most interested in the policy development, but then he worked in policy, Emily reminded herself. She had some knowledge in this area from Aunt Josie, but Emily preferred placing her energy in the classroom.

Albus picked up another round of drinks, ordering some fries while he was at it.

"I'll bet you spent your summers reading law books," Emily said with a smirk.

"Some," Albus admitted with a shrug. "Growing up, we spent a lot of time with our Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione. She really planted the interest. And Ron taught me chess."

"But James and Lily never cared much for it."

"So?"

"You don't think a teenager obsessed with law is a little unusual?" Emily asked.

"Some might say it makes them extraordinary," Albus countered.

"I'm just saying, if I had a student who was shoving their noses in law text in their spare time, I'd be trying to encourage socialization."

"Hey, I had friends," Albus said.

"I never said you didn't," Emily replied.

Albus wasn't smiling back as he took a long drink.

"I think in all the years our families have known one another, this may be the first one-on-one conversation we've had," Emily pointed out.

"Well yeah," Albus said. He wasn't looking at her now as he scratched the side of his head. "You and Lily didn't like having me around."

"That's not true," Emily said.

"Sure it is," Albus said. His tone was defensive as he finally looked at her. His eyes were focused and she had to force herself to listen rather than look at the nuances of the color in his iris. "You don't remember?"

"I remember just fine," Emily said.

"You would call me a dweeb and go into the other room to do something else if I was around," Albus told her. "Imogen and James always had their own thing, and you and Lily… What else did I have, but to read books and play chess?"

Emily blinked. That's not what she remembered at all. "You're exaggerating," she said.

"Okay," Albus scoffed, sitting back and taking another drink. They said quietly for a minute before he turned towards her again. "That first time you visited—when you and Taylor came with our family to Peru—you and Lily locked me into one of the Peruvian temple rooms."

"Oh, come on," Emily said. "You were in there a whole ten seconds. And you seriously wouldn't stop correcting the way we pronounced the town names for three days before that."

"And that's an excuse you'd accept from one of your students?"

"No, I'm not saying that," Emily argued. "But come on, that was over two decades ago. You're not still holding _that_ against me are you? I'm not holding it against you that you were an obnoxious know it all."

Albus took a fry, stirring it around in the ranch dip, his lips pressed together. Emily still didn't remember it being that big a deal. Was he just trying to make a point? Or did it still upset him this much?

"Another drink?" Emily offered.

"Sure," Albus muttered.

He finally let her take care of a round. She set the sweaty mug in front of Albus, who looked just as surly as he did when she'd left him a moment before.

"Okay, fine, on behalf of my twelve year old self, I'm sorry."

Albus took in a deep breath. "I guess I was fairly pedantic back then," Albus said.

"See? We're making progress," Emily said. Albus gave a controlled grin and Emily reached over for some fries. "So, green eyes, tell me… why haven't you gone the way of your siblings towards the domesticated life?"

"That's always a fun question," Albus replied. "I guess because I haven't found someone I want to live a 'domesticated life' with."

"Lily was saying you just got out of a relationship?" Emily asked.

Albus scoffed. "Got out of… I was barely in a relationship."

"What happened?"

Albus shrugged. "I asked her out, we were seeing each other for a few weeks, then she wanted to pick out china."

"After a few weeks?" Emily asked. Her and Eric hadn't even moved in together yet. _Thank Merlin_ , she thought. She still needed to box up some of his things. Maybe she would do that over the weekend. "Like, really picking out china or are you exaggerating again?"

Albus gave her an exasperated look. "Not china, but she was already getting after me, saying I worked too much, and wanted to spend a weekend changing the color in my dining room."

"No way," Emily laughed. "I've seen that move. Classic 'marking the territory' strategy. They change the decor in one room and next thing you know, they're part of the furniture."

Albus laughed. It was free and clear with a wide, white smile. His laugh had a similar cadence to Lily's, only in a lower range. The way the wrinkles folded around his eyes made them even more attractive than Emily had already thought.

"Classic indeed," Albus said. "At least with grandpa and everything else right now, it will be awhile before I have to deal with dating again."

"Oh, I doubt that," Emily replied.

"What about you?" Albus asked.

"My relationship with Eric was a little longer than a month," she said. Emily played with the nearly empty mug in front of her. "If it's going to take you awhile, I'm sure you can only imagine."

"I'm sorry he did that to you," Albus said. "It wasn't right."

Emily looked up, the sincerity in his voice bolstered her for a moment. "Thanks," she said softly. Emily took a deep breath and smiled wide at Albus. "Of course there's always the prospect of boning complete strangers now."

Albus gave a humoring laugh. "Yeah, well… that's certainly overrated."

"Oh, come on, you can't be that good," Emily said. "Be honest, there's something liberating about going into a bar… finding someone to flirt with for an evening… have some fun with…"

"I don't see anything liberating about that," Albus said.

"Not even for the conquest of it?" Emily asked, skeptical. No man was that noble. Most women weren't either.

"The conquest?"

"Yeah, the conquest," Emily said. "The stories to tell."

"Why would I tell anyone those kinds of stories," Albus said. His sincerity was the same as his apology a few minutes before.

"You're going to try and tell me that when you're sitting around with your buddies, having drinks, and enjoying a night out, it never comes up? You know, questions about the best, the worst, the most embarrassing… really?"

"Of course, really," Albus said. "I think it's appalling to use such human interactions as base forms of entertainment. Best… worst… why would anyone rank that?"

Emily blinked. "Okay, I know you've got to be joking."

"Why's that?"

"Because everyone ranks that," Emily said. "Even if you don't talk about it, there's no way you don't differentiate between an amazing night of sex and a dud."

"No, I don't," Albus said. "Any woman who's willing to be that vulnerable doesn't deserve such judgement from others. So as far as I'm concerned, it's always been amazing."

"Or maybe it just always seems amazing because you lack technique," Emily teased.

"See, and right there is the only reason to rank," Albus snapped. "It's some game where you challenge someone's sexual prowess to make yourself feel better. It's all about goading someone into being demeaning to their past partners, and I find it unacceptable. I, for one, won't play, thank you."

Emily sat silently through the rant, wondering if she'd ever heard anyone with such an elevated view on relationships, casual or not. Albus finished his drink, sat back, and pulled his glasses out of his jacket pocket. He put them on and looked away, jaw tense. Emily realized she had taken the questions too far. She should apologize, but found herself distracted by another question after his lecture.

Emily moved over a little, reaching out a finger to turn Albus's face towards her. He scowled at her, jaw still tense as she reached up, taking his glasses off again. Her eyes shifted between his. Emily ran her hand along his cheek and he softened just a little. She looked at his lips and leaned forward.

When their lips touched Albus took a moment before he kissed her back, gentle and soft. His lips were warm as he caught her upper lip between his own, holding onto it as long as possible before they broke apart. Their faces were close as Emily looked into his eyes, his gorgeous green stare matching hers with the same intensity as her heart skipped a beat.

"What was that about?" he whispered.

"I just had to know."

"Know what?"

Emily swallowed. "What it was like to kiss someone who believes all that."

"And?" Albus's eyes narrowed, waiting for her answer.

"Incredible," she muttered.

Albus's lips crashed against hers again, this time with fervor and passion. His fingers wove into her hair. His tongue touched her bottom lip then moved away, causing a chill of anticipation down her spine. Emily grabbed onto his jacket pulling him closer, feeling breathless and lightheaded.

She pulled back, panting. "We should go somewhere more private."

Albus nodded. He stood, taking Emily's hand and leading her outside. They rounded to the other side of the bar when Albus pulled her into him by the small of her back. Emily wrapped her hands around his neck, touching his forehead with hers.

"Hold tight," Albus said. His mouth was on hers and there was the strangest sensation as he apparated, bringing her along with their bodies and mouths entangled.

Emily took a side glance. "Where are we?" she asked.

"Lily's," Albus said between planting kisses around her face.

"They could have heard us apparate in," she whispered.

"Too late now," Albus said, hands around her waist as their tongues tangled once more.

Emily reached up, pulling his jacket off, then he reciprocated with hers. She pulled away, undoing the buttons on his shirt as his lips moved along her neck and jaw, fingers pushing up the fabric on her own top. When they'd done away with these layers, Albus picked Emily up with more ease than she imagined him capable and laid her back down on the bed. Emily's skin tingled as he kissed his way up her torso, then paused, looking at her under him, one hand wrapped around her back. In the little bit of moonlight coming through the attic window, Emily could have sworn his green eyes glowed. They stayed still for several moments, breathing, nearly at a stalemate. Emily pulled Albus down by his neck, needing his lips on hers.

* * *

Emily's eyes fluttered open to the sight of mint green walls. She was wrapped up in a blanket without clothes underneath. She didn't usually go home with the men she met. She might bring someone back to her apartment, but that was because she had charms in place that made it a safer option. Why she went against this, Emily couldn't remember. Her mind was half asleep and she rubbed her eyes, trying to recall.

The sensations rushed back first. The feel of his lips, the touch of his hands—his incredible hands. She'd never had a night like that. Especially not with a hook up from the bar. She felt a shiver down her spine as she remembered the feel of being with whoever this stranger was. It was magic. Pure magic. The type her students were too young to learn yet.

Whoever he was, he breathed steadily behind her, but they weren't touching. Emily could easily get dressed and sneak out before there were any awkward conversations or silences. Before there were questions for phone numbers, if he was a muggle, or addresses, if he wasn't. No names.

But then she thought again of the night before. There was time for a little more fun, she supposed. She had plans to spend her day off with Aunt Josie, but they hadn't set a specific meeting time.

Emily slowly turned and froze, her face inches away from Albus's. Emily's face burned hot.

"Damn it!" she said louder than she intended. Albus jolted, his eyes opening as he propped himself up on his elbows.

Emily hurried as she pulled the covers with her, trying to keep every inch of herself draped.

"What are you doing?" Albus asked, tugging the sheets back towards him.

"Trying to get… dressed," Emily replied, yanking again and wrapping her body, leaving Albus naked and confused as he sat up further. She blushed more as she turned away, bending down to pick up her clothes.

"Okay, what's the sudden rush here," Albus said. He reached over and grabbed his own clothes. She peaked over as he pulled up his jeans. It couldn't have been him. No, it wasn't Albus she remembered… was it? But who else could it have been?

"The rush here is… what the hell," Emily said, tripping as she tried to put her underwear on. "What were we thinking?"

"I thought we were just having a night out," Albus said. "Did… I … you were the one who kissed me."

"I did?" Emily asked. "Oh, well… uh… I gotta go."

Albus tilted his head. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you were that far gone."

"No, it's just, uh… it's morning and last night," Emily tried to find a way to articulate herself. Words were gone. She looked at Albus. No glasses still. She stopped for a moment, licking her lips. Was she not remembering last night correctly? God, it had felt so good. "Let's just not tell anyone, you know, about last night."

"Sure," Albus replied, looking confused. "That's fine."

Emily zipped up her skirt and threw on her jacket over the shirt, which she now noticed was inside out. She didn't bother to stop and change it. "I'm, uh, I'm just going to go."

Emily pulled out her wand and did a disillusionment charm, quietly opening the door that lead to the steps down from the attic guest room. She tiptoed down the stairs and edged her way along the living room. Lorcan and Lily were already in the kitchen, managing the girls for breakfast.

"Aunt Emmy, Mum!" Callie shouted, pointing right towards her. Emily ducked behind a bookcase, wondering how Callie had seen her. Emily looked down at her hands and could barely see them if she was intent about it. She pulled a mirror out of her pocket, but she couldn't see the mirror or any other part of her. How Callie had seen, she wasn't sure, but Emily waited.

"Mum! Mum! Aunt Emmy!"

"Yes, sweetie, Aunt Emily was here the other day," Lily said.

"No, I saw Aunt Emmy, Mum!" Callie said again.

Emily edged along the wall, making it quickly to the front door.

"Eat your breakfast, Callie," Lorcan told her.

"Dad! It's Aunt… EMMY!"

Emily opened the front door, trying to move as fast as possible in case they decided to get up and investigate. She turned the knob from the outside, holding it until the door was closed and then let go. She took a few steps back, watching to see if anyone peeked out of the windows, before she turned and ran as fast as she could out and around the corner. She found a large, overgrown bush to hide in before undoing the charm and catching her breath.

"No one can know that happened," she repeated quietly to herself and apparated back to her own apartment.

* * *

Albus followed Lily into the school auditorium. It really wasn't much of a school at all. Three classes dividing up several dozen students from wizarding families. He wondered why no one had established these kinds of schools in England yet. Wizarding families back home just taught their children themselves until they went to Hogwarts. He smiled, seeing the various writing and colored pages on boards and all around the room they were in now.

Small chairs lined the space and larger ones were set up for the parents and family members here to watch the play. Lily found a place to park the stroller and Albus took the twins, one in each arm, as they went to sit.

"Who is this?" one woman, with bleached blonde hair asked, turning in her seat.

"This is my brother, Albus," Lily said, taking a deep breath as she sat. Albus was feeling much more relaxed by the end of the week, but he had a feeling his visit had worn Lily out more than she was willing to admit. "Albus, this is Connie."

The half hour before the kids took the stage was filled with various introductions and Albus reigned in Cara and Callie.

When the lights were dimmed and various students each took a turn to talk, Albus's mind wandered.

Albus should have known better than to give in the night before. The way she was looking at him, the feel of her lips, the passion of the moment… it all got to him. He needed to apologize. He should have had more control. He took a heavy breath.

"What's wrong?" Lily asked.

Albus looked over, having forgotten where he was. "Oh, nothing."

"You're scowling."

"I am?" Albus said. "I er… I was just thinking about something I probably should have done for work before I left."

"Still?" Lily said. "I guess we didn't quite succeed this week then."

"No, you did," Albus said. "Just with it winding down and everything, I'm realizing it's coming to an end. Reality is right around the corner."

One of the kids walked off and everyone around them clapped. Albus and Lily joined them. Lily waited until the next performer was a good portion into what they were saying before she leaned over.

"You know you're always welcome to come get away, right?" Lily asked.

"It's not that simple."

"It could be more simple than you're letting it," Lily said. "I know you're a high powered, in demand, irreplaceable—"

"That's enough of that," Albus said.

"I'm just saying, your whole life doesn't have to revolve around work," Lily said. "The girls love having you around, so… anytime you want…"

Albus moved an arm to drape around his little sister's shoulder. "Thanks, Lil," he said.

Abigail got up next, marching right to the center, and quoted her lines very directly. "Hi, Uncle Al!" she shouted before being ushered off stage right. The whole audience laughed.

* * *

Emily opened the door to Aunt Josie's house, carrying a few bouquets in her arm. Eric hadn't sent more, but they seemed to be enchanted, because even the oldest ones weren't wilting. Emily took several vases to the elderly lady who lived next door and was handing some off to Aunt Josie. She could get rid of a few more and figured she could toss the rest from there.

"Aunt Josie?" Emily said, closing the door with her foot. "We're still having a movie day, right?"

"That's what I was told," Taylor said, leaning in the doorway between the living room and kitchen.

Emily smiled wide and squealed. "Taylor!" she shouted, hurrying forward and leaning in to her sister's hug.

"Let me help with those," she said, grabbing one vase.

"No one told me you were coming!" Emily said.

"Yeah, well, it was all kind of last minute and I thought it would be more fun to surprise you," Taylor said. "But, uh, speaking of things no one talked about, Aunt Josie was just telling me about Eric."

"Oh, yeah," Emily said. "Didn't much feel like writing down that shit show."

"Fair," Taylor said, setting her vase on the table. "Want to go curse him after dinner?"

Emily laughed. She didn't get to see Taylor nearly often enough. They had both come to live with Aunt Josie, but not quite three months later, Taylor took off to Romania for an internship, which turned into a job, and she was only around for holidays and the occasional visit. Emily looked up to her. Taylor was tough and independent. She was capable and she didn't let things get to her. Emily wished she was more like that.

"Talk to me after a couple glasses of wine. I'll probably see the value in it then," Emily replied.

"These are lovely," Josie said, sniffing at the iris filled vase. "What's the occasion?"

"The occasion is getting rid of everything Eric's given me," Emily said.

Josie rolled her eyes, still sniffing at the flowers again. Emily placed the vase of roses on the window sill.

"Does he not know your favorite are sunflowers?" Taylor asked.

"No clue," Emily replied. "I think he's just doing a hail mary at this point. Can we talk about something else, though? How's Xander? How's Romania?"

They sat around the kitchen with Aunt Josie making a pie as they caught up. Taylor told them about the latest changes in the Dragon clan, including how Charlie had picked her to lead a team that would transport a new dragon from New Zealand back to Romania. Emily told Taylor about her students this term, how the old ones were getting along and a few of the new ones, too.

"How was the dinner for work last night, by the way?" Aunt Josie asked.

Emily's face warmed at even the mention of the night before. "It was okay," Emily said. "Eric was upset that I brought a date, but otherwise uneventful."

"You had a date?" Taylor asked. "Way to move on."

"It was just Lily's brother," Emily said. "He was in town and came with as a favor."

"Albus?" Taylor asked.

Even hearing his name sent a phantom chill over areas of skin he had set on fire. "Yeah, Albus," Emily said.

"How is he doing?" Josie asked.

"He seems fine," Emily said. "Taking care of his grandpa and working. We did have a weird moment last night."

"How so?" Taylor asked raising an eyebrow.

Taylor was horribly observant. Emily tried to keep a straight face. One that didn't say _I nailed my friend's brother_.

"We were talking about when we were teens and he went off like Lily and I had picked on him or something," Emily said. "Got all worked up about it. Crazy right?"

"Well, you were kind of mean to him," Taylor said.

Emily blinked, closing her mouth. She leaned back, tilting her head. "I was?"

"Yeah, especially in Peru," Taylor laughed. "If he was around, you were making fun of him, and there was once or twice you and Lily left him behind somewhere. Lily went back for him the second time, I think."

"I forgot that happened," Josie said. "Taylor told me about it when she dropped you off back home. That next year you had a couple students you'd do that with, too."

"I don't remember that," Emily said.

Aunt Josie poured the popcorn into a bowl and sat down with them at the table. She took a couple pieces and popped them into her mouth. "I talked to the school counselor about it. After what Taylor told me and hearing reports from some of the teachers… it seemed odd. You were usually so sweet to everyone."

"Who was I picking on?" Emily asked.

Aunt Josie took a deep breath, looking up and thinking. "Morgan Carson," she said. "That's the main one I remember. Do impressions of her for your friends or whatever. Didn't let her sit with you at lunch."

"But Morgan and I were really good friends," Emily defended herself.

"You were good friends later," Josie agreed. "Don't get upset about it. The school counselor thought it was just something that came from everything you were dealing with. Realizing you were a prisoner, learning more about your grandma and everything you'd been through there, moving here… any twelve year old would act out a little. You were really very mild compared to what I was preparing myself for."

"Yeah," Emily said, uncertain. She thought of Sarah and Daniel. At least twice a week she was running interference, trying to mitigate the amount of bullying. This whole term she had related more to Sarah. Never had she thought that wasn't her role. Albus had been right. She was the bully.

"That was a really long time ago, sweetie," Aunt Josie said. "You were going through a lot. And honestly, I didn't know how to get you to talk about it. Every time I tried, you'd insist on doing something else. But you dealt with it in your own way. You came out of it."

Emily thought of last night and the other men she'd dated, and now she wondered. Still she nodded and reached out for some popcorn. "So what's first in the marathon?" she asked.

"Either… _Pride and Prejudice_ or _Gladiator_ ," Josie said, obviously pushing forward the former as her own choice.

Emily and Taylor looked at each other, both of their grins growing. Simultaneous, they looked at Aunt Josie and said, " _Gladiator_."

* * *

Emily adjusted the flowers in the kitchen. She knew she should throw them out. She couldn't do it. They danced prettily in the window light and she didn't have anyone else she could send them to. It wasn't the flowers' fault that Eric gave them to her, right? And she might as well have something nice to look at when she got up every morning.

She could always take some to Lily's house that night. Lily had invited her for dinner Saturday too, but Emily was able to use Taylor's visit as an excuse to bow out. Taylor had left late Saturday night, though, and Emily straightened her house, getting ready for the week so that when she got back from Lily and Lorcan's, she could go straight to sleep.

There was a knock at the door and Emily fixed the daisies in one arrangement, steeling herself, wondering if Eric would just start dropping by as a new tactic. She got to the door, straight faced, and opened it wide, faltering.

"Albus," she said.

He stood in his usual shirt and jeans, trainers on and glasses firmly set on his nose. He had a duffle bag hanging across his body. "Hey," he said with an awkward smile. "I just wanted to come talk for a few, if that's okay?"

"Yeah, sure," Emily said. She opened the door wider and let Albus in. "Can I get you a drink?"

"I need to get going somewhat soon here," Albus said. "Lily thinks I already took the portkey. My dad is meeting us for Sunday dinner."

"Oh, okay. Well?"

"I, er, I just wanted to make sure you were okay," Albus said.

"Me?" Emily asked.

"Yeah," Albus said. "The way you left Friday morning… I thought we were on the same page before that and… Anyway, I was worried after you left that maybe I had read things wrong and really mistreated you and since I couldn't talk to Lily about it..."

"Oh, yeah, well… um…" Emily found words difficult to grasp again. "You didn't mistreat me. I know this is going to sound ridiculous, but I had this really big moment of disconnect, you know?"

"No," Albus said.

"Thursday night was, uh, pretty great," Emily said. "But I kind of forgot that you were Lily's brother."

"You forgot?"

"I know, I know how that sounds. But when I woke up Friday all I remembered was how it was, but it wasn't until I saw you that I remembered who…" Emily looked over at Albus. He had that look of irritation from a few nights ago and she was suddenly glad for his glasses. It would be awful to see that needled look at the same time of his clear green eyes. "Anyway, you don't need to worry. I promise, it all came back and I know I started it."

"Okay," Albus said. He put his free hand on his hip. "That's a relief, actually."

"And I feel like I should tell you, I was talking with my aunt and sister the other day and they confirmed what you had said about when I came to visit. You know, as a kid," Emily said. She hadn't been able to get it out of her head. She'd been a bully. It was the worst revelation she could imagine.

"Like you said, that was two decades ago. I shouldn't hold it over you," Albus said.

She looked at him, and nodded. "I appreciate that," Emily said. Neither of them moved and Emily made the mistake of looking at his lips. "Um, this is going to seem like a dumb question, but _was_ the other night as good as I keep thinking?"

"Excuse me?"

"I just mean to say, I could have sworn… but of course I've been a little off lately and… sorry, it was a stupid question. I mean, it's you…it couldn't possibly..."

"Are you trying to bank things to apologize for in another two decades?" Albus asked, running a hand through his hair.

Emily bit her bottom lip and looked down. "Sorry," she said. "I'll just shut up now."

"I better get going," Albus finally said.

Emily nodded and lead him to the door, opening it. Albus stepped through, paused, and turned back.

"It was amazing," he said. Albus reached out, cupping her chin and running his thumb along her jaw line. "And I won't tell anyone. I promise." Albus leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

He pulled back and was about to turn away when Emily grabbed his wrist. She reached around with her other hand and pulled his mouth to hers. His hands, his mouth, his body… she suddenly felt insatiable.

Albus stepped back into the entryway. He fumbled with the door and dropped his bag. He pushed Emily back until she hit the wall. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist as he deepened their kiss.

Amazing. Yes. That's exactly what it was.

* * *

Albus stared up at the ceiling, his breathing nearly steady. The weight of Emily's head was on his bare shoulder and he ran his fingers through her hair.

"We shouldn't have done that," Emily said.

"The last time you said that, you immediately followed by starting round two," Albus pointed out. He didn't know what he was thinking. He only knew when their lips touched, he lost all sense of what he should be doing. "I really need to get home."

Albus kicked his legs over the side of the bed as Emily sat up, keeping the sheets around her. He had to dig for his own clothes under hers. He found his boxers at one corner of the bed and his jeans at the other.

"You know, I have an idea," Emily said.

"Is that a good thing? It doesn't sound like a good thing," Albus said, pulling his jeans up. He stood, zipping and buttoning. He looked over. Emily's eyes were focused and lit up. Ideas were definitely dangerous, he thought.

"Look, I just got out of a bad relationship that I didn't realize was bad until the end," Emily said. "And you're in between… things… what if we just… you know?"

"Definitely not good," Albus said with a sigh. He picked up his shirt and pulled it over his head. "Do you remember when you said you didn't want anyone to know about this? How do you propose holding rendezvouses across the ocean without anyone realizing?"

"Friends are allowed visit," Emily said. She adjusted herself. Albus could see her cross her legs as the sheet's draping adjusted for her movements. "There's no reason we can't visit one another."

"You've always been Lily's friend, not mine," Albus said.

"We can be friends."

"Friends?" Albus raised an eyebrow at her. He kicked around lacy underwear trying to find his socks.

"Yes, friends," Emily said. "You claimed you had friends before. If you were lying I'm sure I can find you a manual on the subject."

Albus scowled at Emily, but she only smiled, a spark in her eyes.

"So friends with benefits?" Albus asked.

"Exactly!" Emily said, looking like she was glad he finally caught on.

"A few problems with that," Albus said. He sat on the corner of the bed, putting on his socks. "Any free time I have right now is going towards caring for a house too large for me and my grandpa, because he doesn't want to downsize. I rarely travel, which could look suspicious, and I think after a week you're going to realize it's not what you want."

"Who are you to say what I want?" Emily demanded.

Albus turned back towards her. "You don't want to get married? Have kids?"

"Not with you," Emily snapped. "But it's not like I have a dozen guys lined up. Nor do I feel like looking, at the moment. And let's be honest, if I was at least getting _this_ it would be a whole lot less tempting to go back to Eric."

"I'm still not convinced," Albus said. He pulled his first shoe on and reached down for the second.

"Look, you have events that you need dates for right?" Emily asked. "Consider me a generally available option, when you need it. Weekends preferably… maybe the occasional weeknight if you really need it. _Or_ I could become the backup excuse with difficult women. Whatever."

Albus thought about this. He didn't like how that sounded and was sure he wouldn't take her up on that side of the bargain, but the way she looked at him… the way her tousled hair cascaded down her shoulder…

"I think you're overestimating how much help I need," Albus said.

"I think I've correctly estimated," Emily replied. Albus huffed. "Don't be offended. This would be totally quid pro quo. No strings attached. It ends as soon as either of us find something else we want to pursue."

Albus put on his jacket. He went to adjust his glasses, realizing they were missing. He looked around on the ground again. Emily whistled. In her left hand she held his glasses, shooting him a challenging look. He walked on her side of the bed and she held them away.

"Give them back," Albus said, leaning over her.

Emily giggled, the sound tinkling near his ear as his hand grasped her wrist. Emily wrapped her other hand around his neck and pulled him into her again. A heady feeling took Albus over once more. Emily brought her other hand in, letting him take the glasses. Albus didn't remove his lips from hers.

"Okay, okay, okay," he mumbled as he finally pulled away. Her hand was still on his face and Emily smiled. "Have it your way."

"I have plans next weekend, but the weekend after that?" Emily asked.

"I'll probably still be catching up on work," Albus said.

"Then I'll come visit you," Emily replied. She kissed him again. "Until then."

Albus walked out of the room, not daring to look back as he picked up his duffle in the entryway. With his luck she would lunge herself at him again and he would be delayed further. He let himself out, finding a clearing before pulling out his return portkey. He tapped it and closed his eyes as it took him home.

When he landed in the garden at the Burrow, Ginny tapped on the kitchen window, waving him in. Albus entered. His parents and Grandpa Weasley were settled around the table already, plates of food with indentations of first and second servings.

"Where have you been?" Ginny asked. "I nearly flooed Lily to make sure you were okay."

Albus set down his bag and gave his mum a kiss on the cheek. "It was just hard to get away from the girls," he told her.


	5. Rendezvous at the Burrow

_**Rendezvous at the Burrow**_

Emily wasn't doing the best job at acting normal. Lily kept giving her searching looks on Sunday night, commenting that Emily seemed chipper. At work on Monday, she found herself whistling as she bustled around her classroom on her own. She stacked chairs, sending them to the corner for that day's senior lesson when she heard someone clear their throat at her door.

"So you did take a piece?" Fiona asked with a grin.

"There wasn't a piece to take," Emily said, though she couldn't suppress her own smile.

"Oh, sweetie, I call bullshit," Fiona replied. She closed the door behind her and sat at Emily's desk, setting her feet up on the corner, which may have been the only clear spot. "Details, darling. Details."

Emily thought about this. Albus had promised he wasn't going to tell anyone. It was likely she should stick to the same policy. Still, it was Fiona. Not only was Emily never going to convince her something didn't happen at this point, but Emily couldn't see how it would hurt. It wasn't like it would get back to Lily, which was the worst case scenario in Emily's mind. If she warned Fiona it was under wraps, she trusted it wouldn't get back to her aunt either.

"It really shouldn't have happened," Emily said. She grabbed a stool she kept at the front of the class and sat near Fiona.

"Isn't that the way," Fiona laughed. "With how that boy looked, though. Yikes."

"You don't understand, that's not how he normally looks," Emily said. "I mean, he's not… dumpy or disheveled. But it's like he doesn't really look like he cares most of the time."

"Well, then he cleans up good."

"Sure," Emily replied.

"So…"

"So what?" Emily asked.

"When are you seeing him again?" Fiona asked. She raised an eyebrow.

Emily bit her bottom lip, buying herself a moment to decide how much she was going to share. "I'm not," she lied. "I mean, he's not my type. At _all_. He's a bit moody, really. And serious. Very serious sort."

"Yeah, he seemed pretty well put together," Fiona said.

"And there's this whole… history. You know? He was always my friend's older brother. Nothing more."

"Yeah, until you let him play _sheath the wand_ with you," Fiona said. "And based on that smile, I'd say he's well practiced."

Emily looked down. This was the sort of talk Albus spoke against. She almost felt like it broke some unspoken treaty to say too much. But Emily also felt a need to sort through it with someone. None of the sparks made sense to her. After all it was Albus, for Merlin's sake. Albus, who scowled at her more often than smiled. Albus, who cared so much for his family, but seemed work obsessed otherwise. Albus. Her _friend with benefits_.

"I have never…" Emily closed her eyes, lost for words. "Eric never made me feel like that. I swear, Fiona, I couldn't stop thinking about it all weekend. I thought I had to have been fantasizing about most of it, but… then Sunday…"

"What happened Sunday?" Fiona raised an eyebrow again.

"Well, he came by and… oops," Emily said with a shrug. Fiona laughed. "It's a pretty high bar."

"You know," Fiona said. "Personally, I think for most people that kind of connection is something that's built. But… you might want to rethink that 'type' thing."

"No, it would never work," Emily said. She stood, shuffling through piles of papers she had already organized that morning to hand back. "I'm pretty sure one of us would end up strangling the other after a month."

"Well, I'm proud of you sweetie," Fiona said. "I probably shouldn't gossip, but I can tell you that there are two of our colleagues that are in quite a state after you traipsed in with Albus at the dinner."

"I'd like to think I'm more evolved than to let that make me happy," Emily said.

"But you're not," Fiona replied.

"You're right I'm not," Emily said with a grin. There was a knock at the door. "Come in."

The door creaked open and Sarah peeked into the room.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Ms. Davis," she said. "I didn't know you were busy."

"No, come on in, Sarah," Emily said. "We should do lunch, Fiona."

"We should. Definitely," Fiona said as she stood to leave. "I want to hear more about that pie recipe of yours. Particularly with Thanksgiving coming up. Certainly would make the holiday more interesting."

Emily tried to keep a straight face as Sarah made her way in and Fiona winked, exiting.

"What can I do for you, Sarah?"

"Uh, I just wanted to see if I could get permission to use the floo," she said, not looking directly at Emily.

"Your dormitory advisor should be the one you talk to about that," Emily told her.

Sarah's cheeks went pink. "She said no," Sarah said, then looked at Emily, her eyes wide and pleading. "But if you gave me permission—"

"Why do you need the floo?" Emily asked.

"I want to make sure my dad's okay," Sarah said. "He left a letter in my bag when he dropped me off, and I haven't heard from him since."

School had started the last week of August. That meant Mr. Nettles hadn't sent Sarah anything in over two months. Emily felt her blood boil at the thought, but cleared her throat.

"I'm sure he's completely fine, hon," Emily said. "We can reach out and make sure for you if you'd like, but I'm afraid I can't override your advisor's decision."

Sarah nodded, looking down, her eyes watering. "Okay," she said. "Thanks."

Emily wished she could tape this and show it to Sarah's dad. She wished she could show him what his absence caused, the same way she once wished she could show her own dad the same thing. There was a time, when Emily was a teenager, that she convinced herself it was a rather romantic notion. After his beloved wife passed away shortly after Emily was born, he lost his purpose in life. He left because he didn't know what to do without her.

But there was always a part of her that knew Taylor and her should have been enough. That should have been his purpose. Just as Sarah should be Mr. Nettle's purpose.

"Can you tell me who your advisor is again? I will talk to her as well," Emily promised.

"Miss Miller," Sarah said, hope rising in her voice.

Emily swallowed back. Grete. Damn it. She forced a smile. "I will speak with her this afternoon. And I'll send a message to your dad to let him know you're wanting to make sure he's alright," Emily said.

"Thank you," Sarah said. The bell rang from the hallway.

"On your way, hon," Emily said.

Sarah rushed out of the class towards her own and Emily finished getting ready as the older students shuffled in, more interested in finishing their conversations from lunch than getting prepared.

"All your bags against the wall," Emily instructed. "And pair up. Na-uh-uh, remember what I said last time, Kendrick and Marcus. Split."

Emily ran the lesson, coaching herself mentally when she wasn't helping her students. Get in, get out, say what's needed. She could do it. For Sarah, first, and because she was a damn professional. When the last student left she gathered all her things. She would head home right after.

Making her way through the halls, she knocked on Grete's classroom door.

"Come in," Grete said.

Emily opened the door, seeing Grete bent over a pile of grading, quill in hand and a well of red ink in front of her. She closed the door and stepped in. Her right hand was shaking. Emily pulled it into a fist to stop it. "Is this a bad time?" she asked.

Grete practically jumped from her seat. She knocked over her ink. Emily pulled out her wand and cleaned it up with a single sweep.

"Oh, thanks," Grete said. She set down her quill.

"I needed to talk to you about Sarah Nettles," Emily said.

"What about Sarah?"

"She came to talk to me. Wanted permission to use the floo network to talk to her dad," Emily said.

"I told her no."

"I know," Emily said. "I think you should change your mind."

Grete stiffened at this. "It doesn't matter what you think. You stopped dormitory duties several years ago."

"I understand that," Emily said. "And I understand the general policy. Sarah hasn't heard from her dad all year. And I'm sure you know her mother died when she was very young. I think it would help her concentrate to just speak with him briefly."

"I'll consider it," Grete said, still stiff.

"That's all I ask," Emily said. She almost brought up her plans to write to him as well, but decided that the less she sounded like she was stepping on Grete's territory, the more likely Sarah would be to talk with her dad. Instead of saying a dozen cutting things she wanted to say, she turned to leave.

"Wait, Emily," Grete said.

Emily turned around. Grete came closer, that same pink lipstick Emily saw on Eric the night she caught them in a thick coat across Grete's lips.

"I need you to do something for me," Grete said. Emily tilted her head, grinding her teeth. "You need to tell Eric you're done for good."

"Why?" Emily asked.

"Because he's stuck on the idea that he'll win you back, and he refuses to talk to me," Grete said. "Please, I need him to know he doesn't have a chance with you."

"Did you really just say all that?"

"Are you really going to take him back?" Grete challenged her.

"I owe you nothing," Emily said. "I don't owe you an answer to that question and I certainly don't owe you enough to speak to Eric on your behalf."

"Please, I am in love with him," Grete begged.

"No, _I_ was in love with him," Emily said, the shaking in her hand spread throughout her body. Her lip trembled. " _I_ loved him."

Emily turned to walk away.

"He told me over and over again he was going to leave you," Grete spat. Emily stopped in her tracks. "He said he just had to figure out how to let you down without you going crazy. He took me to the beach this June. Rented a beach house. We hardly left the bedroom. Did you know that?"

Emily kept her hand on her wand, but stepped forward, moving on. She stepped into the hall, a spattering of students still wandered around her. She walked at a brisk pace, biting her bottom lip until she got back to her classroom. Emily locked the door behind her, walking to the closet on the far side of the room. With one more charm, she contained the sound around her, then let out a scream, a roar from her very soul. She pounded on the door until her hand hurt.

She hated him. And she still loved him. It sucked.

* * *

Arthur and Molly spent most evenings together now. He kept trying to make something happen while they were at Hogsmeade, but Molly just wanted to go to the main shops—pick up new quills, get some candy, get a few joke items—and there wasn't really anything romantic about it.

Then, on the walk back towards the castle, Molly reached out and grabbed Arthur's hand. She kept talking and Arthur tried not to react to the fact that Molly Prewett's hand was in his. If they were sitting on the couch in the common room, she would hold his hand as well. Arthur wasn't sure what it meant, but he had a feeling that to ask would be weird.

Molly closed the transfiguration book in front of her. She had three inches more on the essay than Arthur. He would be up for at least another hour finishing it.

"I've been telling people we're dating, by the way," Molly said quickly. "I hope that's okay."

"You've what?" Arthur asked. He couldn't possibly have heard that correctly.

"I've been telling people we're dating," she said. "Just to, you know, make things official."

"Oh, okay," Arthur said. He scratched his head.

"What's wrong?" Molly asked. Arthur shook his head side to side. "Yes there is. You always scratch your head like that when there's something wrong."

"I guess I just thought there would be more of a to-do than that," Arthur admitted.

"Well, if you'd get a move on there might have been," Molly said. "I guess we can break up."

"Wait, no," Arthur said, suddenly sitting up. "That's not what I meant."

Molly smiled. "Not permanently. Just so you get to have your _to-do_ over it. Whatever that means."

Arthur's mind reeled. He needed to think fast. What if Jupiter found out and decided to make a move? He wanted to do something now. It was well past ten, but the common room was still fairly full. He looked around, seeing if Billius was in range to cause a problem. Arthur caught sight of Fabian and Gideon Prewett in the corner at the very least. They hadn't seemed fussed by him so far, but he didn't want to find out if a public declaration changed that.

"Okay, fine," Arthur said. He closed his own book and set down his quill, pushing his glasses up on his nose firmly. There were more important things than passing classes at the moment. He grabbed Molly's hand and pulled her toward the portrait hole. She laughed and followed along easily.

"We aren't supposed to be out," she whispered. Arthur looked back, the Fat Lady was gone for now. He swallowed, but pressed forward, Molly following behind.

There was a noise at the end of the hall and Arthur pulled Molly into a nook. They were nose to nose, tightly fit in the space. Her brown eyes sparkled and she bit her bottom lip. She giggled and Arthur put his hand over her mouth. Molly held his wrist as they waited. When Arthur was sure the coast was clear, he pulled her along again. They made it to the entrance, carefully opening the door and sneaking out onto the lawn.

Arthur thought quickly and made an abrupt right.

"Where are we going?" Molly whispered.

"Not sure," Arthur admitted. They were near the lake now. He examined each tree, imagining their figures in front of each one. Once he decided he walked straight to a willow. They were hidden in the draping branches around them.

"So," Molly said as Arthur stopped. "What's the plan?"

Arthur turned around. "I don't have a plan," Arthur said. "Every time I've had a plan I can't seem to make it work. So damned be any plans."

Arthur took Molly's face in his hands and leaned in, pressing his lips on hers. Molly closed her eyes and rested her hands on Arthur's chest between them. They didn't move, lips touching, for several moments. With a smack of their lips Arthur pulled away.

Molly's eyes were wide in response.

"I, er… was that okay?" Arthur asked.

Molly's smile slowly came back and she lunged at him, throwing her arms around his neck as they kissed over and over again, the chirping of crickets the soundtrack to their moment.

* * *

Albus looked up from his desk, trying to get through his work quickly. Emily would be there that evening some time and there was still a pile of papers and letters and readings. He looked down and out the window, seeing Grandpa Weasley leave his shed. He was holding his arm carefully.

With a growl, Albus pushed back from his desk. He rushed down the stairs and got into the kitchen as Grandpa Weasley turned on the water in the sink, sticking his hand under it.

"What did you do now?" Albus snapped.

"I was soldering and my hand slipped," Arthur said.

Albus swallowed back the reprimand he had loaded up. At least Grandpa wasn't mixing magic where he shouldn't this time. Albus pulled him further over the sink, making sure the angry red skin was under the stream of water as he pulled out his own wand to add to it. After a few minutes of this, Albus reached up to grab the cream. He gently pulled his grandpa's arm out and spread it around.

"Don't touch the soldering again today," Albus said. "Understand?"

"But the pieces are halfway together!" Arthur argued.

"You need to let this heal," Albus said. He noticed Grandpa Weasley's hands shaking even more. It was probably a result of being burned, but Albus wasn't sure. "I have a ton of work and can't supervise right now."

"Please," Arthur said. "I think it's harder if you don't finish in one go."

Albus clenched his jaw, hands on his hips, and looked out at the shed. "Alright, but let's make it quick," Albus said.

The entire place stressed Albus out. Pieces of metal were everywhere. Tools were spread all over the workbench. Scraps of wood and little nuts and bolts lay across the floor.

"When did you last clean this place?" Albus asked.

"Er… when did your mum graduate Hogwarts again?" Arthur asked.

Albus let out a breath. There was a heating tool on top of a wooden surface and the book laid out. "I don't think this is safe," Albus said, carefully taking the handle and propping it so the heated portion didn't touch anything.

"Okay, so you take this thing, add this thing," Arthur said, taking the two half portions of metal.

"Where's the book," Albus said, already certain he would yell at his grandpa if he didn't just figure this out quickly.

He rolled up his sleeves as Grandpa Weasley grabbed a book from the bottom of the pile, opening to the most basic instructions. Albus glossed the illustrations first. This alone gave him a much better overview of the concept. He ran his finger under each line of instruction, muttering to himself what he understood before he pushed the book aside.

Albus took the soldering wire. With the pieces of wood he set the two halves of metal with the seam close together.

"It needs to be at a slight angle," Arthur said.

Albus had him help until it was exactly as Grandpa Weasley wanted it. Carefully, Albus started to melt the wire, letting it set into the seam. It began clumsy and uneven, but by the end he had a proper rhythm down. Albus went over the entire space again. He reached over to unplug the heating element.

"There," Albus said. "Now it says to leave it be for a while."

"Thanks," Arthur said.

"How can you work in here?" Albus asked. He moved about, picking up different objects, organizing them on the workbench by how each looked. "This would drive me batty."

"Oh, it's not so bad," Arthur said. "I can't reach down and grab some of the things on the ground. Drop little things from time to time. Trying to not use magic in here, since that's been problematic."

"Why didn't you ask me to come grab them for you?" Albus asked. He stood, reaching up for little bins. Even these were a disaster.

"Because you've got work to get on with," Arthur said.

Albus stopped, arm up on the shelf. His grandpa didn't say it like others did. He didn't reprimand or tell Albus he needed to lighten up. Grandpa Weasley said it matter-of-factly and with understanding of what Albus wanted to be doing. Albus looked around at his feet again. There were dozens of little bits on the floor. Nails and screws… those could easily go through his grandpa's shoe if he stepped on them wrong. But he hadn't wanted to bother Albus.

Albus hadn't thought much of how Arthur thought of him being here, but he probably should have. Albus made their meals and he cleaned the house… but he tried to think how much time in the month he'd lived here he'd actually spent with his grandpa. Take away the emergencies and the meals… it didn't amount to much. And as much as he'd complained about not getting enough done, it wasn't for lack of hours put into his job.

"Well, you need to let me know and I'll come take care of it," Albus said.

Once he started cleaning, Albus found it hard to stop. He became manic about it. He made a mental list of things he needed to get for the workshop—a tool box, more cabinets, safety gear. He flipped through one of the books on a workshop setup to get more ideas as he wiped sweat from his forehead. In the meantime, Grandpa Weasley shuffled around, moving the larger bits of metal, seeming to piece them together in some strange formation.

Albus hadn't even realized how much time had passed until he heard a knock. Only it wasn't on the shed. He peeked out the window, seeing Emily standing on the doorstep on the front side of the house.

"I'll be right back, Grandpa," Albus said. He rushed out of the shed, rounding the garden. "Hey, how's it going?"

Emily turned towards him and smiled. She held a old carpet bag in her hands. "Hi," she said. "I'm good, how are you?"

"Good," he said. "Sorry, I was distracted there for a minute. Lost track of time."

"Why hello there," Arthur said from behind Albus.

"Er, Emily, this is my grandpa, Arthur Weasley," Albus introduced. "Grandpa, this is Emily Davis. She's a friend of Lily's."

Emily stepped down from the porch and stretched out her hand to Grandpa Weasley. "Good to meet you, Mr. Weasley," she said.

"Oh, just call me Grandpa," Arthur said, patting her hand between both of his. "Everyone else does."

"He's not lying," Albus added. "Give it two more generations and half of the British Wizarding population will be able to trace themselves back to Grandma and Grandpa."

"Really?" Emily chuckled.

Albus nodded. "They had seven children. All but two had decent sized families of their own."

"Well I guess I know the legacy Lily's trying to live up to now," Emily said.

Grandpa Weasley laughed and nodded, his hands still on Emily's. "Indeed," he said.

"Emily is going to be staying some weekends with us," Albus said. "She, er—" Albus looked to her. They had missed one glaring detail in their plan—what to tell Grandpa Weasley.

Emily let him flounder for a moment, then turned to Grandpa Weasley herself. "I'm doing some pedagogical research, actually," Emily said. "Comparing and contrasting programmed early childhood to England's method of homeschooling."

"Interesting," Arthur said. "Well, welcome to the Burrow."

"Thank you, sir," she said.

Albus reached out for Emily's hand, freeing her from his grandpa's kind grasp. "I'll just show her to the room I made up for her," he said.

"Very well," Arthur said. "I think I'm going to watch that house building show again."

"Sounds good, Grandpa," Albus replied. He let go of Emily's hand and lead her into the house through the kitchen, rather than the front door. "Feel free to come in and out as you'd like whenever you're here."

"You weren't kidding. This place is huge," Emily said.

"Yeah, well… eight kids… lots of space needed. They added a few more rooms after they all had families, though the grandkids mostly stayed in tents on the lawn when we'd visit," Albus said. They worked their way up the steps. He pointed out the bathroom and then opened the door to the guest bedroom he had made up the night before on the third floor. A new mattress was needed for the bed and the wallpaper was coming off, but it would do for now. "Here you go," he added.

"This your room?" she asked.

"Mine is off the first landing," Albus said.

Emily turned. "I'm not staying with you?"

"Not as far as Grandpa's concerned," Albus said. "He doesn't generally come upstairs at all, but just to cover our bases."

"Okay," Emily shrugged. She set down her bag, turning towards him. She snaked her hands under Albus's shirt and around his back, her nails tracing lines on his skin as she leaned in and kissed him.

Albus held Emily's upper arms, reciprocating the movements of her lips. He pulled back, looking down at her.

"I still have a ton of work to get caught up on," he said. Emily tilted her head and Albus steeled himself, accustomed to that look. It was that moment where a fight began. "Look, I know you came all the way here, but there are deadlines and I have been swamped with—"

"Chill out," Emily said. "It's fine. I can keep myself busy for a bit."

"Really?" Albus asked.

"Of course, really," Emily replied. "This is supposed to be fun, right? So just let me know when you're ready to have some fun."

Albus let out a breath. "Okay," he said. "Three hours. I just need three hours. There are books in the living room. Or you could always join Grandpa, if you like home building videos."

Emily laughed, that delighted, tinkling sound. "I might just have to see how that is," she said. Emily stood on her toes, kissing Albus once more. "I can help make some dinner, if you want."

"Oh, I was thinking we might just go to the tavern tonight, if that's alright."

"Sure," Emily replied. "Six of one, half a dozen of the other."

"Thanks," Albus said. He pulled back, walking back down the stairs. He got into his office and sat at the table. Before getting back to his letters, he reorganized the scrolls, figuring out which ones he really needed, and which ones could go back to the Ministry.

* * *

Emily didn't have much to unpack, since she was here for the weekend. She worked her way down the stairs. Lining the walls were hundreds of little pictures, many of them filled with redheads that looked a lot like Lily. Pictures of Imogen and James and Albus, along with others that she could only assume were grandchildren, were scattered in. She wondered what it would be like to have this much family. It was just her, Taylor, and Aunt Josie. No cousins, no grandparents, no other aunts and uncles. At least as far as Emily had ever known.

She stopped at one of Albus standing with his grandpa and a woman she could only imagine was his grandmother. He couldn't have been older than fifteen, an arm around each of them. His photographic self smiled up at her in a way his real self had only done a handful of times. He certainly smiled this way constantly with Lily's girls. Emily wondered why he was so reserved otherwise.

Emily moved along. The house was charming. The rooms were strangely set, but it felt homey. The steps creaked under her feet and the wood's finishing was worn along each rounded edge. She could picture the dozens of children crawling up and down over the years, creating their own type of patina. She ran a finger along the flowered wallpaper, at least three decades out of fashion. She was immediately in love with the place.

At the bottom of the steps she found herself in a large living room. Albus's grandpa was bent over a player by the television, mumbling to himself.

"Everything okay?" she asked.

Grandpa Weasley turned towards her. "The video is stuck," he said.

"Let me see if I can help," Emily said. She skipped down the last couple steps and came up next to him. He stepped aside and she tried to figure out exactly what this thing was. Wires came out the back, attached to the television. It was blocky and the thing inside was larger than what she was used to. He had said it was a video, but Emily hadn't ever seen one like this. She pressed the button with the familiar icon for eject. The whole thing made a clunky sound, but it didn't come out. Emily brought out her wand and pointed it into the contraption, holding open the flap. " _Probito_ ," she said.

She held her wand steady as the video came out. She grabbed it with a smile and pulled on it, frowning as strings of what looked like plastic ribbon snagged inside.

"Uh-oh," Arthur said.

"I'm so sorry," Emily said. She reached one finger in, finding where it was hooked and loosened the ribbon, receiving a shock to her finger in the process. She shook the finger. "I… I think we can fix this."

"It's fine, dear, it's fine," Arthur waved it off. He took it from her, winding little round pieces. Some of the ribbon went back in, though it was slow going.

"I've only ever used DVDs," Emily said.

"Oh?" Arthur asked. "What are those?"

"Well, they play, but they are flat and round." She gestured the general size and shape with her hands.

"How does the VHS play it?"

"The what?" Emily asked.

"The VHS?" Arthur pointed at the larger black box.

"Oh, it doesn't play on one of those," Emily said.

"Fascinating," Arthur said. "All the things muggles come up with. So are your parents muggles then?"

"No," Emily said. "Actually, my aunt and I watch muggle movies together a lot. She dated a muggle who taught her about them."

"Really?... What are those?"

They sat back and Grandpa Weasley all but forgot the tape in his hand as she told her about movies, describing a few of her favorites: _Batman_ , _Die Hard_ , _Jurassic Park._ With each one, she would tell him the story line. He was a rapt audience. "How do they get out of that?" he would ask, amazed.

Emily smiled. He was sweet. "You know, I think you'd like them better if you watched them. Didn't you get any movies when you bought the rest of this?"

Grandpa Weasley stood up, bringing back three or four videos they had. They were all about woodworking and crafts and building. "Albus thought they would help in my projects."

"Well we ought to get you some real movies, too," Emily said. "In fact, you live near a muggle town right?"

"Real small," Arthur confirmed.

"They must have somewhere to buy this sort of thing," Emily said. She walked into the kitchen where she had left her jacket and purse, pulling out her wallet. "I have some muggle money. Want to go see what they have?"

"Sure!" Arthur replied, eye lit up.

Emily waited as he took his time finding his coat and they walked down the lane into the village. It was quiet as Arthur pointed to different shops, telling Emily what he knew about each one. Most of them he said he hadn't been into. She found a small store with electronics and opened the door for Grandpa Weasley, following behind.

* * *

Albus sent the last letter with instructions on a project he was handing off. He had mixed feelings sending off the scroll without doing the rewrites himself. He gave it to his owl and opened the window. It was out of his hands now. Literally. If he changed his mind, he could always go pick it up at the office Monday morning. It was unlikely any of his employees would get to it before then.

He let out a breath and stretched out. Albus looked at his watch. It had been closer to four hours. He thought about the last few relationships he had. About once a year he gave dating a try again, and it almost always went downhill when the woman became angry that he had to stay at the office late. Emily hadn't made a fuss and she hadn't come to remind him when three hours had passed. Maybe there was something to having a casual relationship for a while.

Albus made his way down the stairs. The living room was empty and the lights were off. He heard Grandpa Weasley laughing in the kitchen. Albus crossed the room and opened the door between the two.

"I'll bring that one next time," Emily told him, smiling.

Albus saw on the kitchen table a silver machine with a plug and wires coming out the back like the video player hooked up to the telly, only it was smaller and didn't have the right opening for the VHS cassettes. In a stack were thin boxes, still images of people and places and written titles.

Emily stood at the stove, a dish towel over her shoulder and several pots and pans with steam coming out of them. There were spatters and flour and tomato seeds all over the counter. Albus tensed.

"All done?" Emily asked.

"Yeah, what's going on in here?" he asked, one hand on his hip while he reached out, picking up the top box. _Monty Python and the Holy Grail_ , it said. Albus had no idea what that was supposed to be.

"I figured since you needed more time with work, I could get dinner done," Emily said. "Come try the marinara."

She pulled out a spoon and dipped it in. Albus set down the box and went to the stove, opening his mouth and testing it. "A little more salt," he said. He reached over Emily and pulled down the shaker. "Does it need to be this messy to cook?"

"I'm going to clean up," Emily said. She bumped his hip with hers, smiling and tilting her head.

Albus relaxed a little and shook his head at her. "What are all those things?"

"Emily told me about these video discs, Al," Arthur said. "Look! Muggles put on plays and record them!"

"Oh, okay," Albus said. "I don't think we have the right thing to run those."

"We got that, too," Emily said, pointing to the silver machine. "We can set it up after dinner."

Albus grabbed a rag and started cleaning up the counters. Emily rolled her eyes at him. She finished the pasta and vegetables, sending them to the table, grabbing plates, utensils, and cups for all of them as well.

Emily turned around after the table was set, pulled out her wand, and with a flick, the dirty pots Albus was about to reach for moved themselves into the sink, which was filling up with hot soapy water, and the last of the spots and mess were cleaned up. "I told you I'd get it," she said when he turned around.

Albus shrugged, setting the rag on the sink and taking a seat next to her. Grandpa Weasley told him about all the different movies him and Emily were talking about while Albus worked. Emily's foot reached over under the table, playing with his. Albus gave her a side glance and she smirked.

He reached for the vegetables. "Well, it sounds like you'll have plenty to watch for a while," Albus said as he scooped carrots and green beans onto the plate.

Emily took some next, passing the bowl to Arthur. She reached over and wrapped her hand around Albus's thigh. She moved her fingers upward and he reached down to stop her. Albus looked at Grandpa Weasley. He was busy dishing up his plate. Albus shot Emily a warning glance. For someone who didn't want their agreement to get out she was certainly pushing the limits. She smiled back and winked, removing her hand and leaning forward to dish out the spaghetti.

"Your grandpa said he's almost got the motorcycle in his shed to working order," Emily said. "Once the covering is fixed."

"Motorcylce?" Albus asked. "You have a motorbike out there?"

"Sirius's," Arthur confirmed. "It broke down during the war and I've had it ever since. Needed a lot of work and never really got around to getting it all together."

"Is that what you've been working on this whole time?" Albus asked.

"Yes," Arthur said. "Figured I'd give it to Harry, if he wants it. I think I can add a couple elements to it. Need to find out how Sirius cloaked himself while flying, too."

"I've asked you non-stop what you're working on," Albus said, dumbfounded. "And you tell Emily as soon as you meet her?"

"She's prettier than you, Al," Arthur said, chuckling at his own joke.

"He might notice how pretty you are if you'd stop wearing those glasses all the time," Emily said. Albus turned to her, narrowing his eyes as she grinned. She reached up, pulling them off his face and folding them up. She nudged him and Albus couldn't help but smile.

"So what else do you need to do to the motorbike?" Albus asked, turning back to his grandpa.


	6. Giving Thanks

**_Giving Thanks_**

Emily quietly opened the kitchen door to the Burrow, hands filled with bags of food. She had told Grandpa Weasley a little about the Thanksgiving holiday in the U.S. and he seemed so interested that she promised to spend her break with them here. Albus pointed out that he wouldn't have the day off, but she promised he would be able to work without interruption.

Of course there were what the Academy dubbed _The Turkey Games_ the afternoon before break, making it difficult to get away until nearly midnight in England. Making as little sound as possible, she set all the food on the table, then unloaded it into the refrigerator. She took the turkey and put it into a large pot, filling it with water and salt to brine before she finally washed her hands and tiptoed up the stairs. Instead of going to the guest room, she opened Albus's door.

She walked in, sitting on the edge of his bed. Emily looked at him for a moment. He slept without glasses or a shirt. When dressed, he seemed to still be trapped in the lanky body of a teenager. In truth he was lean, but toned. More attractive than he seemed to realize. But then if he were arrogant on top of irritable, there would be no talking to him.

Emily leaned over, placing the back of her hand on his cheek. "Al," she whispered.

With a breath his eyes flew open, that tired confusion present until he saw Emily. Albus turned onto his back.

"So you made it alright," he said groggily, rubbing at his tired eyes.

"Yup," Emily said. Albus pulled back the covers. Emily kicked off her shoes and pulled off her jacket, dressed otherwise as she crawled beside him. Albus made more room and let her turn before spooning behind her, setting the blankets back down. He wrapped her up in one arm.

It was different than how Eric used to hold her. Eric would continually move his hand up and down her curves, never settling for one spot until he was asleep. Even with the superficially physical arrangement between her and Albus, he tucked her into his chest, lacing his fingers between hers to hold her hand. If Emily could choose how she was held by her next boyfriend, this would be it.

"How was the fair thing?" Albus asked.

"Carnival. And it was fine," Emily said. "Fiona and I ran the bake sale."

"Hmmmm," Albus hummed, his lips close enough to her neck that Emily could feel the vibration of it. "What else do they do there?"

"Every year they have pairs of professors do these staged duels and the students all bet on who will win," Emily said with a grin. "It's really the favorite."

"That does sound like fun," Albus said. "Have you ever been one of the professors?"

"No," Emily said. "Eric and I were talking about doing it this year, before everything happened."

Albus seemed to tighten his grip at Eric's name. Emily knew it might be her imagination. After all, she was the one who needed reassurances when he came up.

"What else?" Albus asked.

He seemed to fade in and out, but Emily talked about the different events and booths and how her student Sarah came up to tell her that her dad had sent her a long letter, which made Emily happy. Emily had been one step away from showing up on the man's doorstep and watching as he wrote to his daughter.

"She gets to go home for Christmas. I was really worried he was going to make her stay at the school."

"We used to stay at Hogwarts some holidays," Albus said. "Lily and I stayed at Hogwarts the Christmas my mum was in Australia."

"It's different for you, though," Emily said.

"How?"

"You knew your parents were there for you if you needed them," Emily whispered.

There was silence and she felt Albus move behind her. She turned and he was looking down at her, searching her expression. "Yeah," he finally said. "I guess that does make a difference."

Emily felt exposed under his gaze. Like he might see things she had shoved down and caged years ago. Decades, really. Things that were better that way. She forced a smile and turned just enough to lean in and kiss him. His grip redoubled and they moved slow and steady. She pulled back.

"You probably need some sleep," she said. She kissed his nose, then turned away and relaxed into a pillow.

Albus's lips pressed against her neck a few more times before he also settled in. Emily knew he was asleep once his thumb stopped moving along her wrist.

She couldn't sleep, though. Not for a few hours. Wizards and witches traveled the long distances with little time and expense, but it didn't make the time differences affect them any less drastically. In Emily's mind it was still evening and normally she would be at home by now, drinking a glass of wine and plugging away at grading. A couple months ago, Eric probably would have come over, too. They might have ended the night tucked together in bed. Like this.

* * *

Albus was shut away in his office most of Thursday. Emily woke up later than she intended, but showered quickly and got down into the kitchen to start cooking. Arthur came in and out of the house, spending an hour or so in his workshop, then sitting at the kitchen table, telling Emily stories about working for the Ministry.

"There was once these rugs being sold to muggles that were meant to massage their feet, but it would envelope them to do it," Arthur said. He had some metal contraption at the table on top of a swath of canvas fabric, using a screwdriver and tinkering with the various elements. "I'm sure you can imagine how that was received. When I got there, they were waving a broom at my head."

"How would you calm them down?" Emily asked. "When you'd get someone like that?"

"I always tried to talk to them first, but honestly, I became very good at confundus charms," Arthur said. "Then you could pretty much clean up the mess and let the memory modifying team take care of the rest."

"So they got to keep their rug?"

"Oh, no," Arthur said. "I think on that one we made duplicates and had to roll up the charmed ones. Quite the hassle. Our arms kept getting stuck when the rug would try and massage them."

Emily laughed and turned to check the boiling potatoes. "That was quite a job you had," Emily said. "Do you miss it?"

"Not terribly," Arthur said. "It was rather undervalued compared to other departments. I much prefer getting to see how these things work on my own now. Molly seemed happy to not worry about what jobs I might end up sent to as well."

"Did she worry about you a lot?" Emily asked. She wiped down the counters, finally in that sweet spot where everything was rolling and the next step was ten or so minutes away.

"Molly worried about everyone a lot," Arthur said. "Mind you, there was a time where everyone was facing a lot of risk here in Britain, but even after the war she would wake up in the middle of the night asking if I knew where so-and-so was at. She never really stopped being a mum."

Emily smiled and sat across from Arthur at the table. "How did she handle so many kids?"

"Oh, she wasn't happy if she didn't have her hands in a hundred pots. Even in school. Always some project or another," he said. He concentrated on one of the screws, his eyes narrowed in concentration, though his hand was unsteady.

"You knew each other in school then?" Emily asked.

"That's where we met," Arthur replied. "We started the same year."

"When did you start dating?"

"Third year. We were... fourteen," Arthur said, pausing to think.

"You were together all that time?" Emily asked. Arthur nodded with a grin. "Didn't you ever date anyone else?"

"Of course not!" Arthur was incredulous at the idea. "Why would you date anyone else when you meet the person who makes forever make sense?"

Emily smiled. It was a beautiful idea. She wasn't sure she believed it existed anymore. "What was she like?"

"She was energetic and clever," Arthur said. Emily reached out to help steady his hands as he continued to work. "In school, she was friends with everyone. She was a wonderful mother. Always on top of everything. Almost nothing got past that woman. Granted, we had a set of twins that gave her a run for her money. Gave us all a run for our money. Tried to get our youngest son to make the unbreakable vow once."

"No!" Emily said.

"Yes," Arthur chortled. "They were just lucky I caught them on that one. They both would have gone to their graves if Molly had been the one to find them."

"So what do those two do now?" Emily asked.

"Oh, George runs their joke shop. Fred died in the war," Arthur said. He stopped messing with the screw. His hand dropped, holding the screwdriver limply as his bottom lip quivered and he looked off.

Emily reached over, placing her hand on his. "What was Fred like?" she asked gently, a soft smile. Grandpa Weasley looked over to her. He blinked out a couple tears.

"Just like George," he said quietly. He cleared his throat. "The pair of them were identical down to their thoughts."

Grandpa Weasley continued with a variety of stories about the twins, his tone becoming enthusiastic again as Emily interjected with questions and laughter. When the yams were finished, she had him take a quick taste, then got onto the mashed potato and checked on the turkey.

* * *

Albus had more owls than ever to answer. He was finding the balance of what to delegate, what to handle himself, and received lots of questions from his workers. The owls gave him pause and almost made him revert to his old ways until he realized that their earnest inquiries were an attempt to do things right. Albus had often worked under the assumption that if it was going to be done right, he had to do it.

As things changed he would need to go in and do a training, perhaps. Or hold a meeting and come to some consensus on the nuances of how things should run. Maybe he could even get to the point that he was mostly supervising the completed writings, sending for edits before implementation. Albus had never felt so free from the heavy burden of work.

Around one he sat back, having completed a dozen letters and sent them off with his owl. He sat back in his chair, stretched, and took a deep breath. His stomach growled and the smells of Emily's cooking wafted up the stairs. He decided he would just grab a sandwich.

Albus took the smaller, and more rickety, stairs on the side of the house that lead straight into the kitchen. These were hardly used and made for a perfect hiding space when they were children. He was nearly to the tile when he overheard Grandpa Weasley and Emily talking about his grandma. Albus almost rushed in to change the subject before his grandpa fell into the stupor that normally followed, but he paused.

Albus sat in the stairwell, wrapping his arms around his knees as Grandpa Weasley continued to share stories. Emily's laughter made Albus smile. He was certain his grandpa hadn't gone this long talking about his grandma since she died. Then it happened. Not for Grandma, but for Uncle Fred. Albus knew the question about his uncles now was a dangerous one as soon as Emily asked it. Albus swallowed, picturing the look on Grandpa Weasley's face. He stood to go in and help when Emily broke the silence.

"What was Fred like?" she asked.

Albus waited. She seemed impervious to the awkward silence, waiting Grandpa Weasley out until he talked again. It took a few moments for Grandpa Weasley's voice to regain its normal jovial bounce, but it came back. Emily had pushed him passed the moment. Albus leaned against the wall, the stories being told now washed over him as he thought about this. Albus had wanted to be a comfort for Grandpa Weasley, but hadn't figured out exactly how to do that. He swallowed and turned around, deciding he'd rather not interrupt if Emily had managed so perfectly to get him talking happily that way.

When Albus got back to his office, he found himself less able to concentrate. Only in part because his stomach growled in protest. He worked for another few hours, getting much less done in the afternoon before he finally gave up, going downstairs to see if he could help with any of the last bits of Emily's holiday meal.

Albus took the regular stairs this time. He could hear Grandpa Weasley sobbing when he got halfway between the living room and first landing. He rushed the last few steps. Emily and Grandpa Weasley both sat on the couch. Only one lamp was turned on and the telly was playing something in black and white in front of them. Grandpa Weasley wiped at his eyes with his handkerchief and blew his nose loudly.

"What's wrong?" Albus asked, coming around, kneeling in front of his grandpa.

Emily pressed her lips together, pushing down a smile and Albus wondered how he'd been impressed by her sensitivity earlier.

"Grandpa what happened?" Albus asked.

"It's so beautiful," Arthur said, then hiccuped. "He didn't know how much they all loved him, did he, Emily?"

Albus looked between the two of them, confused. "Who?" Albus asked. "What are you talking about?"

" _It's a Wonderful Life_ ," Emily said, nodding to the television. "It's a traditional Christmas movie. I brought it with."

"Merlin, this is about one of those muggle videos!" Albus declared, both relieved and irritated. "Grandpa, it's not real."

"But it _is_ a wonderful life!" Arthur declared, wiping at his eyes again. He reached out a shaky hand and patted Albus's cheek. "It's wonderful! What an excellent video!"

Emily's shoulders moved up and down, though she restrained the noise from her laughter, covering her mouth.

"Well, I won't get to experience it if I starve to death, so how about we get the rest of this dinner together," Albus suggested.

Emily took Grandpa Weasley's arm and nodded as he repeated bits and pieces that Albus could only assume were from the movie. They got into the kitchen and everything was already set out. The amount of food reminded Albus of the times they came to the Burrow when Grandma Weasley was still around, constantly cooking and stuffing her grandchildren with food.

"I just need to carve the turkey," Emily said.

"Let me get it," Albus replied as she helped Grandpa Weasley into his chair. Albus lifted the foil off the turkey and sliced it, placing the pieces on a plate and adding it to all the other dishes.

Albus sat and reached over to serve potatoes to himself when Emily stopped him, grabbing his wrist.

"We always began by going around the table and saying what we're thankful for," Emily said. Albus tilted his head, looking at her. "Tradition," she added.

"Well then, you need to show us how it's done," Albus said with a grin.

"Hmmmm," Emily said, thinking. "I'm thankful for excellent students who make teaching fun. I'm thankful for my sister and aunt, who have always given me everything I need. And I'm thankful for friends, near and far," she said. She reached over, placing her hand on Albus's knee under the table, "who have made my life happier, even in hard times."

She looked at Albus with a half smile. He looked down, taking off his glasses. He folded them and set them to the side.

"That is lovely," Arthur said. Albus and Emily turned their attention towards him. "And well said. Okay, my turn. I am thankful for my children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, who give me hope for the future. I am thankful for muggles and all the brilliant things they come up with." Albus and Emily both chuckled at this one. "I'm thankful for new friends," Arthur nodded at Emily. "And I'm thankful for you, Albus. For all you've done to help me around here."

Albus swallowed, wishing he had done more of it with a better attitude. He'd try and have a better attitude in the future, at least.

"Now you," Emily said, leaning over to nudge Albus.

"Alright," Albus said, thinking a moment. "I'm thankful for all my family. I'm thankful that I have a job where I can make a difference in the world. And I'm thankful for both of you."

"Cheers," Arthur said, raising his glass. Albus and Emily both reciprocated, clinking glasses before they all dug in.

Albus watched Emily for a moment. She tilted her head at him, smiling. He reached over, grabbed her hand under the table, and they ate.

* * *

Albus groaned as he fell on his bed and Emily laughed.

"We ate three hours ago," he mumbled. "How am I still full?"

"I told you, it's hard to pace yourself with Thanksgiving dinner," she said. "Pretty much impossible. It's the Thanksgiving curse."

"I don't think I'll ever eat again," Albus complained.

"You just need to burn some calories," Emily replied. She sat with one leg tucked under the other on the edge of the bed. She leaned over and kissed Albus, her hand wrapped around his head. Albus trailed his fingers down her side.

"I don't think I can move," Albus said as she pulled away.

Emily laughed and stood up, pulling her shirt and jeans off. She undid the button and zipper of Albus's pants and moved to the foot of the bed, yanking at the pant legs. "You need to help me a little, here," she said.

Albus lifted his hips and she gave another pull, taking them off.

Emily crawled up on the bed, straddling Albus's hips. She leaned over him, taking his lips again. Albus wrapped his hands around her back, pulling her closer. He followed her lips, moving up until he was sitting. Emily reached for the hem of his shirt, taking it off and throwing it to the side. It landed in the general pile as she felt his torso beneath her palms.

When Emily turned back, Albus placed a hand on her neck, holding her still before she could kiss him again. "There was something I wanted to say I was thankful for, that I didn't know was a good idea in front of Grandpa."

Emily smiled. "Was it that you're thankful for friends with benefits?" she teased.

"No," Albus said, staying entirely serious. "I heard you talking with him earlier. About Grandma and Fred and… everything."

"Oh?" Emily asked, unsure of where this was headed.

"I'm thankful you've been here lately, Em," Albus said. "I'm thankful you seem to understand him the way the rest of us don't."

"What do you mean?"

"We haven't talked to him much about Grandma since she died," Albus explained. "It usually just makes him profoundly sad. Even the good stories. But you get him talking and staying happy. I don't know how you do it."

"I don't do anything," Emily said, shaking her head.

"You do," Albus said. "And I want you to know I'm very glad for it." His green eyes shifted between hers. He moved his other hand up, caressing her cheek, tucking her hair behind her ear. "You're changing my perspective on a lot of things," he added.

Emily turned her head, kissing the inside of Albus's wrist that held her still. She ran her hands up his chest and around his neck, pulling him into her.

Even though she didn't say it, she found herself more and more grateful for Albus as well. He wasn't anything like the men she had been with in the past. None of them would have said anything quite so genuine and thoughtful. And none of them made her feel the way he could.

* * *

Arthur rode his new Comet 140 to meet Molly at the top of the hill near his house. They had just finished their sixth year and Molly was coming to spend two weeks with him while her parents went to visit Molly's aunt Muriel, who was living in Rome for a stint.

He landed, searching the skies until he saw a shooting green light and Molly landed in front of him, wearing periwinkle traveling robes and a black hat on top of her braided hair. It had only been three days, but Arthur smiled wide, dropped his broom, and swept her up in her arms. Molly dropped the used portkey, giggling with her arms around his neck. He dipped her back and kissed her until he lost his footing. Arthur slipped and dropped Molly in the process.

"Ah!" Molly yelled, her head hitting the ground.

"I'm sorry," Arthur said, scrambling to his knees and trying to help her up. Instead, Molly wrapped a hand around his neck and pulled him into her, smiling. Arthur pulled back. Molly's hat had fallen off and the soft fly away hairs framing her face blew in the breeze. "You okay?" he asked.

"I might need something for a headache later," Molly admitted, sitting up.

"Where's your bag?"

Molly took out her wand and with a wave, it appeared between them. Arthur stood and picked up her bag, holding out a hand to help Molly up as well. She beamed at him, holding his hand. He bent down and picked up the broom, walking hand-in-hand with Molly towards his house rather than flying back. It gave them more time alone. They caught up on what little there was quickly. Billius had officially moved out (something Arthur was grateful for) and Molly had spent the first week and a half of summer redecorating her room, adding a few pictures of the two of them to her walls.

Arthur opened the front door and lead Molly through.

"Arthur? Is that you?" his mum asked.

"Yes, Mum," he called back.

She came out of the kitchen, smoothing out the apron covered in bread flour. "Why hello there, dear," she said, coming over to the two of them, holding Molly's arms and examining her. "Arthur has told us all about you. Welcome."

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," Molly said. Arthur knew she was nervous, though he had promised her in their owls that his mother was more than excited to meet her and that everything would be fine.

"Oh, call me Cedrella, dear," she said. "Arthur, love, take her bag to Billius's old room. It's all made up for her."

Arthur watched as his mum put her arm around Molly and the latter looked over her shoulder at him. Arthur smiled as they walked toward the kitchen. He went to the back of the house where the bedrooms were.

"She here?" his 13 year old brother, Barbary, asked.

"Yeah. Mum took her into the kitchen," Arthur answered.

Barbary sat up in his bed. "How long is she here again?"

"Two weeks," Arthur said. "Why?"

"You know why," Barbary said. "Mum's going to be all serious about manners and shit until she's gone."

Arthur smiled. That was the trade off. He supposed he had more to get out of it than Barbary. "Just put in some extra hours at work," he suggested.

"You know, I think I might," Barbary said. "That said, I smell cookies. Mum never makes cookies."

Barbary passed by Arthur, hurrying into the kitchen to take advantage of the situation as Arthur made it back to the room. When he joined the others, Molly seemed more comfortable than before, talking with his mother and laughing as Cedrella smacked Barbary's hand from taking another cookie.

"You've had enough," Cedrella said. "Go out and de-gnome the garden, if you're bored."

"Can I at least have another cookie if I do?"

"Sure," Cedrella said with a sigh and Barbary ran out the door. Cedrella turned her attention back to Molly. "Tell me about your parents, dear. What do they do?"

The next few days passed pleasantly. They went flying in the yard each afternoon, though they had to stay low because of a few muggle neighbors. Arthur grabbed Molly's hand and pulled her towards the forest to wander around after they landed that third day.

"I want to come," Barbary said.

"Not this time," Arthur said. "You can come with us tomorrow."

Barbary huffed, but it didn't bother Arthur. They walked through the trees and Arthur gave Molly a hand as she stepped up on a rocky ledge. They were a decent way into the foliage when Arthur turned Molly around, pinning her against a tree and holding both her hands behind her back. She bit her bottom lip looking up at him.

"How are you?"

"What do you mean?" Molly laughed. "I've been with you almost the entire time."

"Except when I've gone to work in the mornings," Arthur said. Their dad worked in the production department at _The Daily Prophet_ and each summer Arthur and his brothers worked part time with a few other students getting the editions sent out each morning. "I just wanted to make sure you're enjoying yourself."

Molly smiled wide. Her bright brown eyes sparkled, making Arthur's heart leap. "I am," she said. "Your mum is the sweetest."

"She always wanted a daughter," Arthur said. "We used to dress up Barbary and let her pretend a bit."

"Really?" Molly laughed.

"No, not really," Arthur said. "We just tell him that sometimes to get a rise from him."

"You're such a tease," she said.

Arthur leaned in, his nose grazing hers. "Oh yeah?"

"Mmm-hmmm," she replied.

Arthur was about to kiss her when she pulled to the right.

"What's that over there?" she asked.

Arthur turned around, looking through the trees. "What's what?" he asked.

"Right there," Molly said. She let go of Arthur's hands and made her way towards where she was talking about. They were halfway there before Arthur noticed. It was an old, worn building. "Does anyone live here?" she asked.

"I don't think so," Arthur said. They were at least a couple miles from his parents' house. "It doesn't look lived in."

Molly walked up to one of the dirty windows, rubbing a spot and trying to peek in. "It's empty inside."

There were brambles and overgrowth all over. Vines covered the door. Arthur pulled out his wand and cut them down, opening the door. There were only three rooms—a sitting room, a bedroom, and a kitchen. Nothing else. Half of the glass was broken and the roof was starting to sink in.

"There's something charming about this," Molly said, looking around. "We should fix it up."

"What?" Arthur laughed.

"We should fix it up. You know, just for fun," Molly said.

* * *

Arthur went to work. His muscles ached after spending a good portion of each afternoon since finding the house in the forest building and cleaning and fixing. Barbary came about half the time. Molly seemed to think it was cute when Arthur let him tag along, though he would have been fine without him, too. He already had to deal with him for four hours each morning at _The Daily Prophet_.

"Wotcher, Arthur," Benjy Fenwick said. They had both been doing this summer job together for the last several years. Benjy was a few years older than Arthur and had gotten to the point where he was working another full time job on top of this, apparently saving up to travel abroad. "What're you stretching for," he asked, slapping Arthur on the back hard. Arthur stumbled forward and Benjy moved on, ruffling Barbary's hair.

"It's just been a busy summer," Arthur replied.

"Molly's visiting," Barbary said. "For another week."

"Ah, I see," Benjy said. "So you've been…"

Benjy thrust his hips in a rude gesture. Benjy often did this sort thing and Arthur nodded towards his brother, who was clearly watching.

"Hey Barbary, mind getting me some coffee?" Benjy asked.

"Sure!" Barbary said, happy to be given anything to do by anyone older and cooler than him.

"Come on, Benjy," Arthur said. "He's only thirteen."

"Which means he's probably wanking whenever his bedroom door is closed," Benjy argued. "But really, you have caught her snitch right?"

Arthur felt his face go red. "No," he admitted.

"Wait, how long have you been dating."

"Er… two and half… almost three years," Arthur said. He never was clear on their exact anniversary. He usually just waited until Molly hinted about a special day coming up and had a card ready to give her as soon as it became obvious she expected one.

"And you haven't… really?" Benjy asked. "You've at least got hold of the quaffle right?"

"What do you mean?" Arthur asked.

Benjy used his open hands to gesture grabbing invisible breasts on himself.

"On occasion," Arthur said.

"Come on, Molly Prewett… gotta take advantage of that one while you got it, Weasley," Benjy said.

"That's my girlfriend, Benjy," Arthur said, his voice heavy with warning. "And I'm not dating her just to _catch her snitch._ "

"I'm just saying, Weasley, only one more year before you both go your separate ways."

Arthur didn't reply as Barbary came back with a mug for Benjy and they got back to work. He didn't like the suggestion that there was an expiration date for him and Molly. She was the best part of his life. The best part of each morning at school and he couldn't imagine life without her.

That afternoon, the two of them went out to the house in the forest on their own. They had stabilized the roof, cleaned all the windows, repaired the glass, and Molly had colored the back room. Today they were stripping the wooden floors. Arthur was clearing the dirt from the edges of the room.

"What's wrong?" Molly asked.

Arthur froze. "What?"

"What's wrong?" she asked again.

"Nothing," he replied.

"You're all quiet today," Molly said. "Are you tired of this?"

"No," Arthur said. "I just… what are your plans after Hogwarts?"

"I don't know," Molly said. "I was thinking of maybe training to be a healer. Or working for a shop for a bit. Why?"

"Am I part of the plan?"

Molly let out a breath and smiled. "Of course you are, Arthur. Is that what was bothering you?"

"Just a bit," Arthur admitted.

"Oh, Arthur," Molly said. She draped her arms around his shoulders. Raising to her toes, she kissed him. Arthur held her face in his hands, feeling it beneath his fingers. She bit her bottom lip as she pulled back. "You're my everything, Arthur."

Arthur grinned. "Let's get this place in order a little more, eh?" he asked.

They continued to work until it was nearly dark, then lit their wands and walked back to his family's house holding hands. They sat through dinner, Barbary bragging about how he got Benjy his coffee that morning. Their dad asked them all lots of questions and after dinner, they all sat around the living room, playing games and listening to the wireless.

Arthur gave Molly a kiss on the cheek and went to bed, laying sleepless. He stared up at the ceiling, hands under his head, and looked out at the twinkling starlight. Arthur sat up, grabbing his wand and crawling out his window.

It was nearly two in the morning when he tapped on window to Molly's room. He waited and tapped again. She opened, rubbing her eyes. "What's going on?" she asked.

"I want to show you something," he whispered. Arthur held out his hand and Molly looked back before putting on shoes and climbing through the window in her nightgown. Arthur used his broom this time, Molly riding right behind him. She hugged tightly around his middle as Arthur made his way to the house in the forest.

"There's lights on," Molly said. "Someone does live here?" she asked.

"No," Arthur said with a grin. He leaned the broom against the house and opened the door, letting her in.

Molly's jaw dropped open as she entered. There were tea light candles floating all over the sitting room. In the center, Arthur had set up a blanket, a handful of pillows, and a small picnic with wine glasses, already half full.

"Oh, Arthur," Molly said. She turned and kissed him. "This is so romantic."

Arthur lead her over to the blanket, sitting behind her, one leg propped up and fitting himself around her. He pushed her hair out of her face. Molly grabbed a glass of wine, sipping at it as Arthur flicked his wand, music played.

"How did you do that?" Molly asked.

"I stole the wireless from home," Arthur admitted. "We definitely have to get back before my parents notice all this is gone."

Molly laughed and bit her bottom lip.

"I want to give you a home," Arthur said. "I don't know what I'm going to do for work. I can't promise I have the rest of my life figured out. But I want to give you a good life. Whatever I have to do to make that happen."

Molly's eyes teared up. She leaned over and kissed Arthur. She took his hands, wrapping them around her waist. In that moment, Arthur thought beyond the next year and could see forever.


	7. Christmas Surprises

_**Christmas Surprise**_

Albus had only seen Emily once since her visit for Thanksgiving. He made a trip to Maryland to visit Lily and Lorcan two weeks after their new daughter, Millie, was born. Grandpa Weasley stayed with Uncle Bill and his family. It was his turn to go to Emily's, but as it turned out the only time they saw each other on his long weekend was when they were helping watch the other four girls.

"Why don't you just apparate into the guest room tonight," Albus suggested quietly as they passed in the hallway.

"Not going to risk that again," Emily said. "We were lucky they didn't hear us come in last time."

"Then I'll apparate to you," Albus whispered.

"No," Emily said. "They'll hear you leave or the girls will end up trying to wake you up and notice you're gone. Then there will be a million and one questions. No thank you."

"Okay, Sunday afternoon," Albus said. "I won't have long."

"That should be fine." Emily nodded. Albus took a breath and turned to walk back to the living room. "Wait, wait, wait."

"What?" Albus stopped and asked.

"You have something right…" Emily's eyes were narrowed. She reached up as if to wipe something away and pulled off his glasses, craning her neck to kiss the bridge of his nose where they normal rested. "... there."

Albus shook his head at her as she handed him back his glasses and walked away. By the time he got there Sunday afternoon, Emily was locking her front door.

"My aunt has this meeting thing in the morning and needs to get three hundred gift bags ready. She flooed me in a panic," Emily said. "Can we take a rain check?"

"Oh, yeah, that's fine," Albus said.

"Um… my Christmas break starts in two weeks," she said. "Unless you'll be tied up."

"James and Imogen said they're going to visit her cousins and my parents were traveling… somewhere," Albus said. "I think it's just me and grandpa."

"Well then maybe I'll just have to tie you up myself," Emily said, hanging her hands on his shoulders and tilting her chin up. Albus rolled his eyes at her, but leaned in, taking her lips.

As soon as their lips touched, Albus found he wanted more. This wasn't enough. Not enough time. Not by a long shot. But he let her go, digging his hands in his pockets as he watched Emily leave.

Albus made sure he was completely caught up on work by the time Emily arrived the Monday before Christmas. "Hello," he said, leaning in to kiss her. "How have you been?"

"Good," Emily said, taking a deep breath.

"Emily!" Arthur exclaimed, stepping out of his workshop. Albus stepped away from her, scratching the back of his head.

"Hi Grandpa!" Emily said.

"Al told me you were coming," he said. "Ready for a white Christmas?"

"I just left one behind, so yes," she replied, leaning over and giving Grandpa Weasley a kiss on the cheek. "I brought a bunch of movies, too. Aunt Josie is visiting Taylor over Christmas, so she wasn't going to need them."

"Delightful," Arthur said. "Should we start one now?"

"Sure," Emily said. "Why don't you pick one out while I put my bag away?"

Albus took Emily up to her room. As soon as she dropped her bag, Albus pressed her against the wall and dug his fingers in her soft, black hair. She smiled at him, giving him a few swift kisses. "Your grandpa is waiting for us to start the movie."

"I don't give a damn," Albus said.

"What is this _Roman Holiday_ one about, Emily dear?" Arthur shouted up the stairs.

Albus growled and Emily just laughed. "I'll be right down," she promised.

"Can we write an addendum to our deal?" Albus asked. "Every three weeks at the very least."

"You could have come last weekend."

"There wasn't anyone to stay with Grandpa," Albus argued.

"I could have come."

"I didn't want you to make two trips so close together like that," Albus countered.

"For someone who's lamenting the length between visits, you're seeing an awful lot of problems," Emily said. She pulled Albus down for a long, deep kiss, then pulled back.

Albus groaned as she slipped away, skipping down the steps. He meandered behind her, going into the kitchen to start dinner. A nice stew seemed to fit the weather as it started to snow outside. He pulled out bread to warm and cleaned the kitchen before he went and sat on the couch next to Grandpa Weasley. Emily was on his grandpa's other side and winked at Albus as he settled in. He turned to the screen. Another one in black and white.

"Why are they in the river?" Albus asked.

"Shhh," Emily said. "You came too late."

"I'll catch him up," Arthur said, leaning over and not looking away. "She's a princess who didn't want to be a princess anymore and he's a journalist, who's taking her around muggle Rome."

"Okay," Albus said. "Why are they in the river?"

"Er, they were trying to ditch these other blokes," Arthur started.

"Alright, nevermind," Albus stopped him. "I'll just catch what I can."

Emily was smirking at him before she turned back to the movie, Grandpa Weasley taking Albus at his word and forgetting the explanation. There wasn't much left, as it turned out, though after dinner Grandpa Weasley decided he wanted to see another, picking out something that was at least color.

"Is this one about time turners?" Arthur asked, reading the back. The cover read _Back to the Future_.

"Oh, this one's fun," Emily said, bringing in a large bowl of popcorn. "And no. It's a time traveling car. No magic."

"How do they time travel without magic," Arthur asked.

"You'll have to watch and see," Emily countered.

Albus joined them for this movie, thankful that Emily took the center spot, reaching out for his hand after the movie had started. The only problem became when Emily fell asleep halfway through, leaning on Albus's shoulder. Any chance that they would have alone time tonight was officially shot. He looked down at her peaceful face, though, and figured they had plenty of time. She was on break for two weeks. Two weeks here. They'd get more than their fill of each other in that time.

The movie ended and Grandpa Weasley was smiling wide.

"There's nothing like a good love story," Arthur said. He groaned as he stood up. "Should I grab a blanket for Emily?"

"No, I can take her upstairs," Albus said.

"Alright. Then I'm off!"

"Good night Grandpa," Albus said.

"Good night."

Albus carefully took the bowl from Emily's hands, setting it to the right of the couch. Next, he had to adjust himself, placing one arm under her knees, the other snaking under her right arm and around her back. Slowly, he stood, then lifted her, finding his balance as Emily turned her head into his chest, her left arm tucking into herself. He thought about taking her all the way up to the guest room, but decided against that three steps up. Albus used his elbow to turn the handle to his own bedroom, kicking open the door.

Albus laid Emily on the bed, pulling off her shoes and setting them neatly beside the door. Albus took off his own shoes, socks, and shirt. He changed into some flannel pajama pants and sat on the edge of the mattress. He leaned on his knees with his elbows, looking over to Emily, who hadn't moved at all. Albus reached over to push her hair over her shoulder, watching as she slept.

As Albus felt himself drift off, he pulled the blankets down, adjusting them so Emily was tucked underneath. Albus leaned over, pressing his lips to Emily's temple. Albus swallowed.

There was time. Plenty of time.

* * *

Emily woke up the next morning and turned over. Albus wasn't there, but then it didn't look like he'd been there at all. Usually, the other side of the bedding would be pulled back or the sheets wrinkled where his body had been. She turned onto her back and covered her eyes. She had definitely fallen asleep during the movie. Emily sat up, threw off the covers, and looked out the window at the fresh, heavy layer of snow. The sun glistened across the surface and she smiled.

Emily wrapped her arms around herself, taking the stairs up. On the second landing she could hear the water running in the bathroom, steam seeping under the door. Albus whistled from inside and Emily smiled. She held the doorknob, turning slowly to not make any noise. She pushed the door open, closed it behind her, then slipped out of her clothes.

"Boo," Emily said, pulling back one corner of the curtain.

Albus almost slipped, cursing as Emily laughed. "You trying to kill me?" he asked.

"If I ever try to kill you, it will be in a far more interesting way," Emily promised. She stepped into the tub and under the steady stream from the shower head. "Good morning, by the way."

Albus smiled. "Morning," he said. He had shampoo lathered in his hair. Emily reached up, running her hands into his hair. She massaged his scalp as she kissed him.

"Where did you sleep last night?" Emily asked.

"Upstairs."

"Why?"

"I didn't think it was right to assume I had an open invitation," Albus said.

"Well, Mr. Chivalry," Emily said, touching him nose-to-nose, "assume away from now on."

Albus moved his hands slowly, his fingers on her waist, moving down to her hips, and around until he pulled her into him.

"I think I agree with that addendum," Emily said, her fingers playing with the soapy hair at the nape of his neck.

"Consider it added," Albus confirmed, his mouth covering hers.

A door downstairs slammed and Emily thought it was Grandpa Weasley. She grabbed Albus's face, kissing enthusiastically down his neck, tasting his clean skin.

"Uncle Al!" a little voice shouted. Emily pulled back, her eyes as wide as Albus's.

"Who's that?" she mouthed.

"It sounded like Andreas," he whispered.

"What do we do?" Emily whispered back.

Several sets of feet pounded up the stairs. Hands hit the bathroom door. "Uncle Al?" came a chorus of voices, saying it over and over, a second voice joined. Emily recognized the third.

"That's Abigail," she said. "You said your family wasn't coming."

"That's what I thought."

"He's not in here," Emily called out and Albus looked scandalized.

"What did you do that for?"

"They're going to know I'm here if they're talking to your grandpa at all," Emily said. The kids took her at her word, their feet pounding back down.

"Now what?" he asked.

Emily peeked out of the shower curtain. "Do you have your wand?"

"No."

"Take mine," Emily said. "Along the seam in my shirt sleeve. I keep it there."

Albus rinsed the last of the suds out, rushing as he stepped out. Emily kept the water running, watching as Albus dried himself with a towel, throwing on his boxers and pajama bottoms.

"Okay, got the wand." Albus looked at her, waiting for the next part of her plan. Obviously he wasn't used to sneaking around when he was in school.

"Go out the window," Emily said.

"Are you bloody mad?" Albus asked. "It's freezing out there. I don't even have a shirt."

"Well, I can't do it."

"You know, you were the one who wanted this under wraps," he pointed out.

"They already know I'm in the shower," Emily said. "And they'll hear you apparate. Look, you just open the window, summon a broom, then go to your room. Come out from there."

Albus took a deep breath, then opened the window. A gush of cold air came in and Emily tried to keep as much of her body under the hot water as possible. Albus caught the broom with his arm out and slid out of the window.

"Hey close it!" Emily hissed.

"You can do that," Albus said, his teeth already chattering.

Dripping and cold, Emily stepped out of the hot shower, watching Albus fly around the other side of the Burrow. She closed the window. Hopefully he pulled this off. If not, their secret was blown.

* * *

Albus shivered. His bedroom window had stuck, taking longer than the already unbearable time to get inside. Albus shut his window and used Emily's wand to perform a warming charm on himself. If he'd been thinking in the bathroom he would have dried his hair in there. He did that now.

Grabbing a sweater, Albus fought against his chattering teeth. He changed into jeans and thick, wooly socks. That helped some. He put on his glasses and headed out his bedroom door.

"Who did I hear?" he asked, working his way down the stairs.

"UNCLE AL!" Andreas screamed, running and jumping into his arms.

"Ugh! You've grown ten feet since I last saw you," Albus said.

Other children ran to tackle him. Trina wasn't far behind her brother. Cara and Callie attached themselves to his ankles at the bottom of the stairs. Only Abigail was missing, happy in Grandpa Weasley's arms, telling him some sort of story.

His siblings, in-laws, and parents all stood around the living room.

"What's going on?" Albus asked.

"Surprise!" Abigail shouted from Grandpa Weasley's arms. He laughed as she turned back to him.

Ginny walked up to Albus, kissing his cheek. "Sorry to drop in like this, dear," she said, brushing back his messy hair with her fingers. "We all agreed you would wear yourself to the bone cleaning the house if you thought you had to play host and we wanted to help with that. Hope you're not terribly bothered."

"Of course not," Albus said, though in the back of his mind, he checked off a list of things he and Emily couldn't manage with this many eyes around now. "I didn't have a chance to get any of the rooms ready, though."

"Weren't you listening to Mum? That was the point," Lily said. "Our group will stay with Luna and Rolf so it won't get too crowded. They said they could warm the barn and put tables in there for Christmas dinner, too."

Albus set down Andreas, reaching out for Millie, who was sleeping in her tight wrappings. She looked warm. Albus had never been so jealous of an infant.

"So what was this Grandpa was saying about Emily Davis being here, too?" James asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Oh, well," Albus said. He almost forgot he needed to cover this. "She's doing this research project on different methods of early education for wizards, or something. And she's been staying here when she comes over to observe."

"Emily's doing that at Christmas," James said. He was far too amused and Albus wondered if it was all over.

"Of course at Christmas. When else does she have time off in the middle of the week? She has appointments with a few wizarding families," Lily jumped in. "She told me about that the last time she was over for dinner."

Albus was glad Emily seemed to think so many steps ahead. Still, Lily's gaze flicked towards him curiously at one point.

"She'll be in and out some days," Albus confirmed. She would actually have to be this time. Grandpa Weasley spent so much time in his shed they could generally get away without Emily going anywhere. Albus would probably be more upset about the extra work their plans caused if it weren't for the group of kids running around his feet now. There was nothing quite like Christmas with his nieces and nephews.

They discussed who would take which room for a while. The kids, they decided, could use sleeping bags and sleep in the living room. Lily and Lorcan talked about leaving Abigail at the Burrow to sleep with her cousins.

There was another uproar from Lily's girls as Emily came down the stairs, her hair wet, but in fresh clothes.

"Aunt Emmy!" Abigail squealed at her arrival. She finally climbed down from Grandpa Weasley's arms. Emily smiled wide, squatting down to the girls' level as the twins joined their older sister in a large hug. Even Harriet broke away from her safety zone to join in. "You're _our_ Christmas surprise!"

"Oh, am I?" Emily asked.

"Mine was all of them coming," Albus explained.

Emily stood up and looked over Albus's shoulder at the sleeping Millie. Her hand slipped into his back pocket to take back her wand discreetly, groping at his backside in the process. Albus wanted to elbow her. She knew he couldn't retaliate though and, as usual, got a kick out of playing with fire.

"Why don't I get some breakfast ready," Ginny suggested. "Harry, can you take the luggage up?"

"I'll help with that," Lorcan said.

"Uncle Al! Let's go make snowballs!" Andreas said, pulling on Albus's arm.

"Okay, but I need to get my coat," he said. Albus turned to Emily, transferring Millie to her.

* * *

Emily watched as Albus leaned over and kissed Millie's cheek. She smiled and he caught her eye before turning to follow Andreas out. The group scattered almost immediately. James, Grandpa Weasley, and the other children followed Albus and Andreas. Imogen went to the kitchen to help Ginny. Lorcan and Harry made their way up the stairs, bags in hand. Only Harriet and Lily stayed behind. Harriet wrapped herself around Lily's leg, becoming shy.

Emily swayed side to side. "Millie is so sweet," Emily said.

"What's going on?" Lily asked.

Emily looked up. Lily's eyes were narrowed at her. Emily's stomach sank. It was too weird to explain. She didn't want to.

"What do you mean?"

"You and Al, what's happening?" she asked.

"Nothing," Emily said. "I'm here doing research and—"

"Look, I already covered for you because Albus was doing a terrible job," Lily interrupted her. "You have two choices right now. Either you tell me the truth, or I join everyone else in figuring it out. On that side there are already two aurors and my mum—who has an uncanny ability to know what's going on with us."

Emily sat on the couch, looking towards the kitchen. Lily faced the stairs, sitting beside her.

"It's nothing," Emily whispered. "We're just… having fun."

"Having fun?" Lily asked. "As in…"

"I think you know what I mean," Emily said.

Lily tilted her head, a concerned look coming over her.

"I know what you're thinking, but it's all very casual," Emily explained. "Neither of us wanted anything real and… you know how it gets."

"He's my brother," Lily said.

"I know," Emily said.

"And it's you," Lily said. "I don't want either of you hurt."

"We won't be," Emily said with a smile. "I promise, we're on the same page."

"You think that now," Lily said. A door shut and they waited a few moments before Lily leaned in, looking seriously at Emily. "I know Albus isn't the most demonstrative person, but when he feels something, he feels it deep. And he won't talk about it unless prodded."

Emily pressed her lips together, looking down at Millie. Over the last couple months Emily had really needed the getaways. She rarely had to see Grete or Eric anymore, but doing so almost always ended poorly for her. One of the worst things to have ever happened to Emily in her adult life was at least eased by Albus. She liked to think she was helping him, too. Albus obviously loved his grandfather, but it was a lot for any grandchild to essentially become their caretaker. They both needed this. At least Emily thought so.

"Just be careful, please," Lily added.

"You aren't going to tell anyone else, are you?" Emily asked.

"No," Lily sighed. "I won't."

"Thanks," Emily said.

"So how did it happen anyway?" Lily asked.

"It just… did," Emily said. She tried to think back. It seemed like a completely different person she'd kissed at that bar. A completely different time. "We were at the bar after that night he went with me to the dinner for work and he was being all high minded about relationships. It intrigued me."

"And you took him back to your place?"

Emily bit her bottom lip and gave Lily an apologetic look.

"Seriously?" Lily grimaced.

"Just the once," Emily said, as though that eased things. "I kind of freaked the next morning when I realized what we'd done. That Sunday he came to talk to me before he left and we ended up… You know. A couple more times."

"Talk to you about what?" Lily asked.

"He wanted to make sure I was okay," Emily said. Saying it out loud made her smile. It was so different from Eric's version of the question, where he only cared about his own standing. Albus worried about her. Even if it had been unnecessary it was touching. "And then I started kissing him again and… it just didn't stop there."

"So you just decided it needed to happen more often?"

Lily slowly became more intrigued than worried. Emily missed this sort of gossip with her. She had done it on occasion when she first dated Eric, but as the girls got older, Emily could only say so much unless they were alone. Even now, she was choosing her words carefully in front of Harriet.

"Yeah. Albus was… apprehensive, but agreed," Emily said.

"Okay, I don't know if I really want to know this, but I'm going to ask. Is Albus... I mean when you've slept together…"

"Is he good?" Emily asked, amused at Lily's squeamish demeanor. It was entirely unlike her. Lily nodded. "He's… I can't even describe. He's like can't-see-straight good. He does this thing where—"

"Nope, no, I was right. I don't want to know," Lily said. Emily laughed and swayed with Millie again. "Let's talk about the weather or something else. Anything else."

"How's it been adjusting to five?" Emily asked.

They talked for a while longer, then moved into the kitchen. Lily took Millie when she cried and Emily held Harriet at the window to watch the others playing in the snow. "Do you want to go outside?" Emily asked her. Harriet shook her head, burying her face into Emily's shirt at the suggestion.

Instead, Emily and Harriet looked out the window, their breath fogging the glass occasionally, as the others threw snowballs at one another. Albus picked Andreas up by the legs. Andreas yelled and tried to kick.

"Put me down," Andreas laughed before Albus tossed him into a pile of soft, fresh snow.

Emily bit her bottom lip as Albus looked back towards the window with his hands on his hips, smile wide. Andreas threw out his hand and a massive wave of snow fell over Albus and Cara, who was next to him and caught in the fray. As Albus reached over to dust her off, Cara cried dramatically.

"Inside," James told Andreas. "Now!"

"Oh, we've told him to stop that," Imogen said. Emily looked over, Imogen watched the scene outside, too.

"What happened?" Lily asked.

James marched Andreas in and the rest trailed behind. Cara still wailed, her arms around Albus's neck. "Five minutes," James told Andreas as they came through.

"But Dad, I didn't mean—"

"Don't argue with me," James said.

Emily moved to sit as Andreas huffed and walked through the living room, his feet pounding up each step.

"Don't be too hard on him, James," Lily said, standing. "Cara's our little actress."

"What did he do?" Emily finally asked.

Imogen sat beside Emily. Lily went to take Cara, but she clung even tighter to Albus, who patted her back and rocked with her. Emily had a suspicion that Cara knew exactly where she'd milk the most sympathy.

"He used his casting," Imogen said.

Emily knew a little bit about Imogen and, as a result, gypsies. "Can all your children do that?" she asked.

"Andy and Trina can. We're still waiting to see with Fritz," Imogen answered. "But Andy has enough now to actually do something with it. Only he can't control it completely."

"When do you teach him?" Emily asked.

"I've started a little, but we've warned him not to use it outside of lessons yet."

James sat down in a huff. "He only ever tries when he thinks he's being funny."

"Like father, like son," Ginny said with a smirk. James scowled at her. "You did far worse than that to Albus when you were in a joking mood. That's all I'm saying."

Emily watched Albus as he sat at the end of the table, Cara still stuck to him like a magnet. He wiped at his nose, which was running, and his cheeks were spattered red. He was still smiling, despite the general upheaval. Abigail wanted to help Ginny cook, which made Trina want a turn, and Callie came to join Harriet on Emily's other leg.

Emily was sure she'd never had more fun getting ready for Christmas. The whole afternoon they pulled out decorations and made the house colorful and bright. After Andreas hugged Cara and apologized, he got to take a special trip to the woods with James and Albus to go find a Christmas tree.

After dinner Ginny leaned over to Albus, feeling his forehead and cheeks. "You have a fever, sweetheart," she said.

"I'm fine, Mum," Albus said, but Emily had noticed it, too.

"I think we wore you out today," Ginny said. "You need to get up to bed."

"Mum," Albus said, pushing her hand away as she tried to feel his cheeks.

Emily kept looking over, distracted from her conversation with Imogen and Lily. If he was sick, it wasn't because of playing outside or all the rushing around. It was from that morning. And she felt bad.

Eventually he did excuse himself and the rest of the adults bustled around, setting the children into their own spaces in the living room.

"Mum and Dad are just down the street," Lily assured Abigail.

"If you need anything you ask your grandma or grandpa, okay Abby?" Lorcan added.

Abigail nodded, obviously over the lecture already. Emily watched from the bottom of the steps. Ginny walked over, standing beside her. Ginny played with Emily's long hair.

"It will be lovely to have you for Christmas," Ginny said.

"Thanks for including me," Emily said. "I appreciate you letting me crash the party."

"Oh, not at all," Ginny replied. "You're always welcome here."

* * *

Albus was definitely under the weather by the next day.

"But I want to play with Uncle Al," Andreas said.

"He's ill, love," Imogen repeated. "Let him rest so he's better by Christmas."

Emily helped peel carrots at the table.

"Go tell Grandpa to build a snowman with you," Ginny said, handing a cookie to Andreas, who ran from the kitchen before anyone commented on the amount of sugar he'd had that day. Ginny grabbed a bowl and poured in some soup. "Everyone can dish up this for lunch when they're ready. I figure that might be easier than gathering all the children at this point."

"Is that for Albus?" Emily asked.

"Yes," Ginny said. She set it on a tray and pulled some toast to set beside it.

"I'll take it up to him," Emily offered. "Then I'm off to do some interviews for the afternoon."

"Thank you, dear," Ginny said. She added two glasses to the tray and Emily stood to take it, ignoring the look Lily gave her. "Can you make sure he takes the pepper up in the blue cup? If he won't, let me know and I can go up myself."

Emily used her wand to carry the tray in front of her. She knocked softly on his door, then turned the handle and entered.

"Hey there," she said with a smile. Albus groaned pathetically as Emily shut the door with her foot. "I have lunch for you."

"I'm not hungry," Albus said.

Emily set the tray down on the dresser and walked over to the bed, sitting cross legged facing Albus. He looked at her, his eyes rimmed red and his face flush. He swallowed, the effort apparent. Emily reached out and ran her fingers through his hair.

"Sorry this isn't the break you expected," Albus said.

"Don't be. I love it," Emily replied. She moved, pulling the blankets around her and lying next to Albus. She moved her hand under his shirt tracing circles on his chest. His skin felt hot as a furnace. "I mean, don't get me wrong. The second they leave I will have these clothes off you faster than you can say Hippogriff."

Albus gave a humoring chuckle. "I don't want you to catch this," Albus said, though he didn't remove her hand.

Emily reached up and kissed him. "This is my fault."

"You said it, not me," Albus said with a grin. Emily scowled and tickled his side. Albus writhed and grabbed her hand. "Stop, stop," he moaned.

Emily did and looked up at Albus. His tired eyes focused on her and she pulled him closer, leaning her forehead against the side of his face. Albus moved his fingers up and down her arm and closed his eyes.

"I was going to head to London," Emily said. "I'll go see a few things and do some shopping. I told your family it's for an interview."

Emily had been debating whether to tell Albus that Lily about them now. She'd wait until he was feeling better at least. Maybe it was better not to put that on him at all.

"Would you mind doing me a favor?" Albus asked.

"What?"

"I didn't pick up things for Christmas, since I was going to send them after the holidays. If I gave you a list would you mind?"

"No, not at all," Emily said.

Albus pushed himself up on the bed, reaching into the drawer of his night stand for a notebook and pencil. Emily moved to get the tray again as Albus wrote quickly. She set the food down on his lap and he sighed.

"I'm not hungry," he said again.

"Too bad," Emily said. "Your mom wants you to eat. And I'm not leaving until I see you drink that potion."

"Ugh," Albus sneered. He finished his list and handed it over. He grabbed the cup with potion and downed it, making a face as he swallowed. Steam came out of his ears slowly at first as Emily reached over for the cup.

"You get better," she said. Emily lined Albus's jaw with her hand and kissed him. As she moved her tongue to taste his lips Albus pulled back.

"Don't," he said. "You'll be next."

Emily kissed him again, though she didn't try to deepen it again. "I don't give a damn," she said with a grin.

* * *

Albus was back on his feet by Christmas Eve and they were all having a great time. Emily finally got to meet Luna and Rolf, the former of which was as delightful as the stories Lily told of her. The children ran themselves ragged and crashed at least twice. Whenever the adults wanted a break, Emily would cull through the movies she brought and put one on. The first was _White Christmas_ and Abigail requested nothing else now.

Each family took turns in Emily's room at the wrapping table throughout the day. Just after lunch, Emily said she needed an hour for her own gifts and Albus asked if she wouldn't mind helping him wrap his.

When they got into the room Albus locked the door and picked Emily up, feeling her skin beneath her sweater. He went for the clasp of her bra and kissed down her neckline as he dropped her down on the bed.

"Do we really have time for this?" Emily asked, only half convinced it needed to be asked as she reached for Albus's belt.

"Not really," he admitted. Albus pulled back, resting his head on her shoulder as she laced her fingers into his hair.

Emily laughed and kissed his neck. "Just a few more days, right?"

"Yeah, I suppose. Actually, there was another reason I wanted to have a couple moments. I wanted to give you your Christmas present."

"You're not going to wait until tomorrow?" Emily asked.

"It's, er, well, I didn't want it to raise any questions," Albus said.

Emily narrowed her eyes at him as he pushed himself up. With a wave of his wand he had a perfectly wrapped box that fit into his palm. Emily nervously reached out and unwrapped it. The box was a beautiful dark wood. Engraved on the top were the letters "E.D." in a lovely, decorative monogram. She opened it up and there were little square compartments, all empty.

"It's nothing too fancy," Albus said. "As it turns out, Grandpa used to do some woodworking. I was reading a book we got on it and a lot came back for him. Knew some handy charms, too. Started rambling about all the projects he did once. So we made this together. Kind of from both of us that way. It's a memory box."

"How do you use it?" Emily asked.

"You take parchment, speak a story, and when you tap the paper with your wand, then tap a square in the box. It will roll it up and store it for you," Albus said. "The whole story will be written there if you ever take it out. I just thought with everything you've been through lately maybe you needed somewhere to keep the good things."

"That is beautiful," Emily said. She closed the box again, running a finger along the engraved portions. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Albus said with a half grin.

"I hope you don't mind—yours is already under the tree."

"Oh, don't worry about it," Albus said. "Like I said, I just did this as a precaution."

Albus gave Emily one more kiss and then turned quickly, walking out the door without another look. Emily closed the box lid, tracing the edges and memorizing the grain of the wood. She carefully put it away into her carpet bag and turned to find everything she needed to wrap. In the neatest pile to the side were several wrapped packages, the tags all reading _from Uncle Al_.

* * *

Abigail was the first to bounce on Emily Christmas morning.

"Aunt Emmy," she whispered into her ear.

Emily smiled, eyes still closed. Two more little bodies, who Emily figured would be the twins, joined Abigail and Emily grunted.

"Go get Aunt Emmy, Harriet," Andreas said, setting her on the bed as well. Emily turned onto her back and opened her arms to Harriet as Trina and Fritz each made their way on the bed as well. They were all calling her Aunt Emmy now.

"Breakfast is ready, Aunt Emmy," Callie said, bouncing on her chest. "And then presents!"

"Alright, I'm up," Emily said. "I'll be down in a minute."

They all scrambled down, making their way out of the room and down the stairs. She heard the name _Uncle Al_ in their group babble. Emily was sure he would get the treatment next.

Emily pulled on slippers and a heavy, warm robe. She made her way down the stairs in time to see the kids dragging Albus out as he put on his own robe.

"Merry Christmas," Emily said to him.

"You too," he replied.

Ginny, Imogen, and Lorcan were laying out food as Lily sat, nursing Millie beneath a blanket. Children crawled over anyone sitting. Callie sat on Harry's lap, pulling off his glasses and putting them on herself.

"Woah!" she exclaimed.

"Grandpa's blind now," Trina said, laughing.

"There's truth in that," Harry said, squinting as he reached over to take the glasses back.

Grandpa Weasley sat at the head of the table, taking each of his great grandchildren one at a time. He held out their palm, drew a circle with his finger, and a moment later a sickle appeared in their hand, to each one's delight. Emily looked around and saw Albus with his wand discreetly under the table pointed towards them. He winked at her.

"Andy, you already got one," Imogen said when he tried to get in line a second time. Grandpa Weasley didn't seem fussed as he gave Andreas a second sickle.

The children all made it into the living room while Emily helped clean up in the kitchen. When they made it through, Albus laid lazily on the floor and several of his nieces and Andreas all hung upside down, laughing.

"What is going on?" Ginny asked.

"We're going to get Uncle Al!" Andreas declared, still trying to reach for him mid air, unlikely to ever reach his target.

Harry waved his wand and large green pillows appeared under all of the levitated children. Albus circled his own and they all dropped with screams and giggles. Andreas scrambled to his feet and dropped onto Albus's stomach, who grunted.

"Stockings, loves," Ginny prodded them as the adults all found places to sit. Grandpa Weasley had brought out Molly's old rocking chair for Lily.

Emily sat beside her on the floor, using one of the pillows Harry had conjured. The children all dug through the candy and small toys. Harriet already had a lollipop sticking out of her lips. James helped Fritz go through his. Callie suddenly seemed upset, coming up to Lily.

"Where's Ivy's stocking," Callie demanded.

"Who's Ivy, love?" Lily asked, confused.

"Our cousin, Ivy," Callie said.

Emily looked over to Callie, slightly stunned.

"You don't have a cousin Ivy, sweetheart," Lily explained.

Ginny and Lorcan sat nearby, listening in now.

"We need to put Ivy's stocking there," Callie insisted. "Mum, where is Ivy's stocking?"

Lily gave up correcting her daughter. She became amused. "We'll have to make one later," she said.

"She's got such an imagination," Lorcan told them.

"Where is Ivy?" Ginny asked, playing along.

"Ivy's there," Callie said, pointing to Emily's stomach.

Everyone in the area laughed. Harry and Imogen had joined in the scene now. Emily picked up Callie, who was attempting to lean over and kiss Emily's belly.

"She's been obsessed with the idea of pregnancy since my stomach started showing with Millie," Lily said, shaking her head. "She kept asking Abigail's teacher what she was going to name her baby."

"Didn't she just announce she's pregnant now?" Lorcan asked.

"Yes," Lily said. "But she asks the same thing to half the women we meet at the park. She was bound to get one of them right."

Ginny began stories of her own children's various imaginings when they were young, but Emily couldn't stop looking at Callie. She didn't ever talk about it, but Emily had one name she knew she wanted to use if she ever had a daughter. Ivy. She had a moment of panic before she realized she couldn't be pregnant. Her cycle had come at its regular time and her and Albus hadn't done anything since. Besides, they always took the proper precautions. No, she was reading into this too much.

"What does Ivy look like?" Emily asked Callie quietly.

Callie turned in her lap, facing Emily. "Like you, Aunt Emmy," she said, leaning forward and kissing Emily's nose. She crawled down and found something else to do.

Emily shook herself out of worry. Callie was just playing. She was being how four year olds were, coming up with stories. That's all it was. It was a coincidence she used the name Ivy. It was becoming a popular name. Callie probably had a classmate with that name.

Emily forgot about the incident as presents were handed out. Since no one had expected Emily, she had lots of colored pages from the children and boxes of treats. Ginny had made her a lovely scarf as well. It was more than she could have asked for.

Albus picked up the wrapped box that was from her. Everyone watched as he opened it to find a glasses case. Albus gave Emily a half-exasperated, half-amused glare as he opened them to find new glasses. He took his old, clunky ones off, and put on the new ones. The frames were a thin, dark metal and rather than a blunt shape, they were larger, curved, and semi-rectangular. They suited him well, just as Emily thought they would. His eyes were clear behind them, compared to the others, which obscured their perfect shape and color.

"Those look so nice, Albus," Ginny said.

"You got him glasses?" Lily asked, looking over at her.

"She's had an issue with mine for a while now," Albus explained.

"No, I just keep telling him that he'd get a lot more attention from women with glasses that looked better," Emily defended herself.

"See, and here I always thought women liked men wearing glasses because they look studious," he said.

"Yeah, when they don't look like you reached for the first pair you could find," she countered.

"She has a point, Albus," Ginny said. Albus turned his glare to her. "You don't want to find yourself at forty with gossip columnists making digs at your choice of glasses."

"Hey," Harry said as several of them laughed. "First, I wasn't forty then. Second, you know Rita Skeeter would have found _something_ to take issue with. Besides, I never had problems getting your attention while wearing these."

"Well," Ginny said. "You had that whole _Chosen One_ thing going for you. And being the Gryffindor Quidditch star. And captain."

"What she's saying," James jumped in, looking to Albus. "Is you need all the help you can get, Al."

Everyone laughed again and Ginny whipped a dish towel at James's head. "That is not what I'm saying," she said, though she was laughing as well.

Emily looked at Albus and realized he wasn't laughing like the others. He had a tight, controlled grin, but was looking down at the case still in his hands. As it turned out, it wasn't only her teasing he didn't seem to take well.

"I think you look handsome either way, Al," Lily finally said and he smiled at her gratefully. "That said, wear the new ones."

* * *

Albus finally talked Grandpa Weasley into showing Harry what he had in the workshop. On the last day of their visit, Arthur, Harry, and Albus went out, Albus leading the way.

Albus had spent most free evenings cleaning up and organizing the workshop over the past month. If Grandpa Weasley was still working, he would use the books to look up how things should be done and get the project going. They had made a decent amount of progress putting the motorbike back together.

Albus pulled the sheet off and enjoyed as his dad's jaw literally dropped. He reached out, gingerly touching the handles. "I didn't think you even had this anymore, Arthur," Harry said.

Grandpa Weasley chuckled and winked at Albus. "It was quite slow going until Al pitched in."

"We still have a few more kinks to work out," Albus said. "It keeps stalling. We'll test the flying function once we know it won't stall out in the sky."

"That seems like a good order," Harry said, smiling. He stood, straddling the motorbike. He picked up his glasses, wiping at his eyes. "You going to put an invisibility button on this?"

"Once we get it worked out," Arthur said, nodding. He sunk onto the short stool.

"Hopefully you'll get it better than the car this time," Harry said.

"What car?" Albus asked.

"Did your dad never tell you about how him and Ron stole our family car to fly to Hogwarts one year?" Arthur asked him.

Albus snapped his eyes to his dad, who had a crooked grin. "No," he said. "He didn't."

"I think your mum and I agreed it would only give you and James ideas," Harry said. "There was a problem getting through the barriers. We weren't thinking—or more accurately we were thinking like twelve year old boys—and took the car. The invisibility feature was a little unreliable and we were seen by some muggles."

"It hit that… tree, didn't it?" Arthur said. "Got lost in the forest around Hogwarts?"

"That was _you_?!" Albus asked. "That story still goes 'round the school. By my fourth year I figured it must have been made up."

"No, it really happened," Harry said.

"I think the charms for invisibility will be more reliable on this one. The car was rather old. And I never quite got it working just right," Arthur said, scratching his head. "Anyway, this is yours, once we finish it."

"You know, I think Albus should have it," Harry said.

"Dad, no—"

"I'll borrow it from time to time, if you don't mind," he interrupted. "But I think Sirius would have liked it to go to someone a bit younger. Someone with a bit more travel left in them."

Albus stopped his protest as his dad smiled at him. "Okay," he said. "I'll try and make some good use of it."

Harry continued sitting on it as Grandpa Weasley talked about all the adjustments they had made and all the things they still had to figure out. Albus imagined himself riding it for the first time. He imagined landing and standing beside it. He imagined leaning cooly against it as he waited for Emily to come out to meet him. He imagined pulling her into him for a deep kiss before getting on the bike, helping her on behind him.

Damn, he needed some time alone with her.

* * *

Ginny and Harry were the last to leave. Grandpa Weasley had already settled onto the couch, watching an Aubrey Hepburn movie as Emily and Albus followed them out to say goodbye. Ginny was preoccupied with Emily, talking about her research and Ginny giving instructions to say hello to her aunt and sister.

"Keep me up to date on when you get the motorbike done. I'll come visit for the test runs," Harry said.

"Sure. Will do," Albus agreed.

"You doing alright out here still?" he asked, just a little more quietly.

"Yeah," Albus said. "I am. It's been an adjustment, but it's actually been a good one. Really good."

"Well we want you to know everyone feels much better knowing you're here with Grandpa," Harry said. He clapped a hand around Albus's neck. "Your mum and I are so proud of you."

"Thanks Dad," Albus said, feeling his face warm.

Harry leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Let us know of any new developments," he added, then turned to join the others.

"I would be very interested in what you find," Ginny said. "If you decide to publish anything I can run it by a few people."

Emily looked uncomfortable at the offer, looking to Albus and back to Ginny before answering. "I will," she said.

"Ready?" Harry asked Ginny.

"Yes," Ginny said, leaning over for her own peck on Albus's cheek. She took Harry's hand and they walked towards the garden and apparated.

Albus and Emily stood side by side in silence for a minute.

"What are the chances someone will have forgotten something and be back here in the next half hour?" Albus asked.

"Pretty good," Emily said.

"I suppose we should wait, then."

Albus and Emily looked at each other. "Screw that," Emily said, throwing herself at Albus. He almost fell back, one arm finding purchase on the wall as the other wrapped around her. Albus leaned back against the door. He lifted her legs around his waist and pressed his fingers into her thighs.

Albus pulled his mouth back. "We probably should take this inside."

"If you're going to be like that about it," Emily said, laughing. She hopped down and grabbed his hand, pulling him along.


	8. Complications

_**Complications**_

N.E.W.T.s were in less than two weeks and Arthur was less concerned than he would have been normally. Unfortunately this was because Molly hadn't talked to him in over a week. Everything had seemed fine before then. One morning at breakfast she avoided him, sitting with her friends surrounding her tightly. When Arthur tried to get them to move, no one would and Molly grabbed toast and rushed out.

Molly avoided him for the rest of that first day. When he finally caught up with her in the Gryffindor common room, she let him kiss her, then said they needed to talk .

"We need a break," Molly said.

Arthur froze. He had never been so confused in his life. "You mean from studying?" he asked. She couldn't possibly mean what that sounded like.

"No, Arthur," Molly said. "You and I… we need a break."

"Why?" he asked. "D-did I do something?"

"No," Molly said, without any further explanation.

"Then why?"

"Can't I just have a bit of space to breath," Molly said, standing abruptly. She ran crying up the girls' staircase. Lyra came to gather her things and take them upstairs a quarter hour later.

"What's going on?" Arthur asked Lyra.

Lyra shrugged and wouldn't look at him as she turned and left him alone and baffled.

In the days that followed, Molly was endlessly surrounded by her friends. Arthur couldn't find a seat by her in lessons or at meals. She would disappear to her room as soon as Arthur entered the common room. She didn't come to the final Quidditch game at all, even though it was Gryffindor playing. And if he tried to track her down at the library, there was always someone who stopped him until she had left.

It wasn't until late one Sunday afternoon Arthur saw Molly sitting under their willow tree near the lake. Her bright red hair was clear between the wispy branches, swaying in the breeze. Molly was writing in her diary and Arthur looked around, noticing her general guard was absent.

Arthur walked up from behind so she wouldn't see him.

"What did I do?" Arthur asked.

Molly started and touched her chest to regain her composure. "I told you. Nothing," she said.

"The way you're acting, that can't be true," Arthur replied.

Molly stood and didn't even look at him as she walked away.

"I've wracked my brain and can't come up with anything. _Please_ at least talk to me," Arthur said, rushing after her.

"No," Molly said. "I told you, we need a break."

"I think I deserve an explanation to why you keep saying that," Arthur said, finding himself angry and hurt and still confused all in one. "Molly, please."

"No."

Arthur surged forward, cutting her off in her tracks, grabbing her arms. Her eyes were tearing up and he felt sorry for her. But not sorry enough to let her go.

"Molly, I will leave you alone forever. You will never be bothered by me again. But not until you tell me why," Arthur said, the emotion bubbling up as he finished. His eyes filled with tears the same way Molly's were, but he didn't let go.

Finally, she met his gaze. Her lip quivered and she took deep breaths as she started to cry. "I'm pregnant," she choked out.

Arthur let go of her arms, stunned. "What?"

"I'm… I'm pregnant, Arthur."

* * *

Over the next several months, Albus and Emily found themselves in a routine. Albus would have at least one long weekend a month that Grandpa Weasley spent with one of his other children or grandchildren. Those were the times Albus went to America. He would spend the days with Lily and the girls. Luckily, Lily urged him to go out for the evenings more often than not, which Albus took full advantage of. He told her he was going out, but would go to Emily's house and they'd have a long night in.

Almost every other Friday night, Emily would take a portkey to the Burrow. Depending on the week, Emily would either arrive right before dinner, or end up late enough that she would wake Albus and they would start their couple days together.

"We really should just pay out for international floo," Emily suggested. "We could split the cost."

"I'll pay for the whole lot, if you're not worried about my family making assumptions to what that means," Albus said, laying the plates of cordon bleu at the kitchen table.

Emily let out a sigh of defeat. "Fine, portkeys it is," she said.

"I do feel guilty that you're coming here more often than I'm going there," Albus told her.

"I told you, I like coming here," Emily said. "I like seeing your Grandpa. Besides, I have all that research now."

After Christmas, Emily actually did begin the research she had been lying about. She told Albus it was an interesting topic to her, but he had a feeling her guilt at fibbing to so many people over it made her want to make it a valid excuse. This meant Albus had his Saturdays to work with Grandpa Weasley.

It was the end of March. Harry and Ginny spent half of Harry's Easter holiday with Albus and Grandpa Weasley trying out and tweaking the last bits with the motorbike. Albus had never seen his dad act so much like an excited child. They took turns and even did a few sky runs.

"There's a booster that will make long distances quicker," Albus said. "Something like what the Knight Bus uses."

"How far do you intend to travel on a regular basis?" Ginny asked.

"I don't know," Albus said, though he knew exactly how far. "It would make going to see Lily and Lorcan easier. Wouldn't have to deal with the portkey office. Maybe see Uncle Charlie more often."

They left only hours before Emily came for the weekend. She entered the workshop as Albus polished the fresh finish he had his dad help him put on. It was black and sleek, making the motorbike look brand new. Emily dropped her old carpet bag.

"Now _that_ is sexy," Emily said with a smirk.

Albus wiped at the sweat on his forehead as Emily came in, straddling the motorbike, her sundress riding up on her thighs as she balanced herself. Albus smiled and got on behind her, rubbing his hands down her thighs as she made revving and riding noises. Albus laughed, his lips on her neck.

"So when are we going on a ride?" Emily asked.

"We can go tonight," Albus said. "It's better if it's dark."

"It's always better if it's dark," Emily said, leaning back to kiss Albus.

Albus moved his arms, wrapping them around her middle as Emily's hand came up to his jaw, her tongue fighting against his as he tightened around her. She moved beneath his arms, moving her lips around his face and down his neck.

"What do you want to do first this weekend," Albus whispered.

"What do I always want first?" she asked with a laugh. She immediately went back to sucking on his skin.

"Okay, then what?" Albus said.

Emily loosened his arms, flipping herself around so she was facing Albus. "We never make an agenda. Why start now?" Emily asked. She pulled Albus by his neck towards her. "Go with the flow, right?"

"Sure," Albus said. He kissed her again, following her lead, though in his mind he was still sorting through what they could do that weekend and what they could fit in. The last few weeks Albus thought about taking her out. To a nice restaurant, not the tavern. Somewhere on Diagon Alley or in London. But if he suggested as much, she would bring up his uncle and aunt who lived there, not to mention his parents who still spent part of their time at their house on the outskirts of the city, pointing out it was bound to get around if they were seen.

As usual, they had a casual evening at home. Grandpa Weasley wanted to watch a movie with them, followed by dinner, and then the two found themselves entangled upstairs. Albus held Emily, their bare bodies fit against one another as Emily caught her breath.

"So I guess tomorrow we'll go on that ride," Albus suggested.

"We could still go tonight," Emily said, then took a deep breath, turning in his arms towards him. "Unless I wore you out?"

Albus moved his fingers up and down her spine, looking into her wide, blue eyes. He could get lost in her eyes. It was like drowning pleasantly in the sea. He took Emily's earlobe between his lips, moving down with kisses. Albus was kissing down her shoulder when he moved his hand lower.

"Oh, Merlin," Emily gasped. "Okay, you're not worn out."

Albus smiled and pulled back. "If you want, we can take out the motorbike."

"Twenty more minutes here and then yes," Emily said, pulling him over.

It was near midnight by the time they got dressed and went out to the workshop. Albus pulled the motorbike into the garden and got on first. Emily climbed on behind him, having changed into jeans and a warmer shirt. Harry had dug through attic boxes and found Sirius's old leather jacket and a helmet. Albus had made a point of going out to buy a second one.

Albus turned and placed the helmet on Emily's head. She laughed, holding around his middle as he turned forward and put on his own. "Hold tight," he shouted behind him. She did as he started the engine and rode through the empty lots by the Burrow.

Wind rushed past them. The grass blurred and only the path directly in front of them was lit.

"Albus!" Emily shouted as the light hit a deer, standing wide eyed directly in front of them.

Albus shifted gears, flipping a switch on the right handle and the front wheel jolted off the ground. Emily squeezed him tighter. Albus turned right just as the deer bent to pounce, missing it by a foot. Emily relaxed behind him as he checked all the gears and pressed the button to hide them from view before they crossed to the muggle side of the town.

"Wow," Emily said. "This feels so free."

Albus smiled and gave her a tour through the west side of England. He never flew right over any cities, but would point them out, naming the ones he recognized.

"Look at the stars," Emily said. "They feel so much closer."

They continued north, past green pastures and mountains and lakes. Albus didn't descend until he found the spot above the Hogsmeade village, Hogwarts within view. Emily was stunned as he landed.

"That's where you went to school?" Emily asked.

"Yeah," Albus said with a smile. "That's where most of us here go to school."

"It's beautiful," Emily said.

Albus got off the motorbike, engaged the kickstand, and gave Emily a hand. They both removed their helmets and found a large rock to sit on. Albus sat behind Emily, his arms around her shoulders and chest and his chin tucked into the curve of her neck.

"How did you find your way around there?" Emily asked.

"You learned," Albus said. "I'd say James helped, but I think he was actually taking the mick on me for the first two weeks. Don't remember clearly enough, so I don't know if it was him or the rotating staircases that had me mixed up."

Emily laughed. "It must have been fun to go to school with your siblings."

Sometimes she said things like that. It wasn't even so much what she said, but the wistful longing in her tone that struck Albus. Like when she talked about him having parents. He would just hum and wait to see if she'd tell him more. She never did.

"If you consider fun having everyone in the year before you help your brother pull elaborate pranks on you, then yes," Albus said.

"Is that why you don't like when they joke with you now?" Emily asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You don't like being teased," Emily said.

"I don't like to be the butt of the joke, if that's what you mean," Albus said.

Emily turned towards him. "That's not usually what people are doing," she said. "You tense up with even the most innocent jokes."

Albus felt himself tense up now. He let go of Emily, leaning back on his hands. "Teasing is more often than not an excuse to say mean things under the guise of humor," Albus said with more irritation than he intended.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by that," Emily said.

"Didn't you?" Albus asked. "It's like when you would make fun of my glasses."

"When did I make fun of your glasses?" Emily asked.

"My old ones. Every time you told me to take them off," Albus said. "Every time you made a dig or comment or—"

"Albus," Emily said, reaching out and holding his face in her hands. "Al, I didn't know you thought I was making fun."

Albus stopped, swallowed, and looked off towards Hogwarts.

"I'm sorry," Emily said.

It wasn't like that first night when she sarcastically apologized to humor him. Emily bent her head trying to meet her eyes.

"James was the one the girls all seemed to like," Albus said quietly. "But I was at least intelligent. It was easier to just be intelligent than go out of my way and try to be handsome and fail."

Emily's whole expression softened. "Oh, Albus," Emily said. "You are handsome."

Albus scoffed and tried to pull away from her hands.

"No, I mean it," Emily said. "Come on, I've gotten to a point I can hardly go a week before I miss seeing your face. Why do you think it was you I made this sort of arrangement with?"

Albus clenched his teeth, looking down. "Because I was available."

"There's a lot of jackasses out there available," Emily said. "And plenty that only want something physical. I decided I wanted you because you're an incredibly good man on top of being handsome. Anyone can be handsome. You're everything. Don't let anyone make you believe otherwise."

Albus felt his face flush and he couldn't look at Emily.

"You know, Eric came to my house this week," Emily said after a lull.

Albus's head turned quickly towards her. "Why?"

Emily tucked her knees up into her chest, wrapping her arms around them. "He wanted to talk. Still."

"Did you?"

"Sort of," Emily admitted, looking over to Albus. "I didn't say anything back. He just kept making a case for himself. Said he could have gotten back together with Grete and he hasn't. That he feels he's atoned enough. That he's earned my forgiveness."

"And?" Albus whispered, his heart beating faster as Emily shrugged.

"And nothing," Emily said. "I asked if he had anything else and he just wanted an answer. I told him I didn't have one."

"How about no?" Albus said.

"If I said that, he'd just say I hadn't really thought about it," Emily said. "I'll probably tell him no in a couple weeks."

Albus didn't like that word: probably. But he didn't have a right to dissent. Their deal meant that when either of them were ready to move on, they did so without fuss and without the drama. It was one of the parts Albus liked about the plan to begin with. Only now, he found the idea of who Emily was considering bothered him.

"You deserve better than him," Albus said.

"I know," Emily said, though it was half hearted.

Albus moved forward again, snaking his hands around her waist and kissed Emily's cheek. They sat for a while longer in silence before taking the motorbike back to the Burrow.

* * *

Saturday passed pleasantly and as usual. Emily only had one family to visit, so she was only gone until eleven. Since they had the whole afternoon, Grandpa Weasley and Albus took her to Diagon Alley. They even stopped by George's shop and Emily bought a handful of items to give students as rewards.

Emily made dinner that night and afterward Albus and Emily lay in his bed talking until the early hours of the morning. Nothing but talking.

Albus was already tired the next day when an owl arrived, tapping frantically at the window. He took the owl and read through it, his brow knitting deeper and deeper as he read along.

"I have a… sort of emergency for work," Albus told Emily. She was washing the dishes. Grandpa Weasley had already headed out to the workshop. "It might take an hour or so."

"It's fine," Emily said.

Albus nodded and wandered off towards the living room and stairs. He worked less and less on the weekends these days. Not that it had ever bothered Emily to begin with.

Emily left a few pots to soak well, going into the living room to fold up blankets and put away movies. She went upstairs to pack her bags. Maybe they'd have a little more time together when Albus was done and before headed out. The one good thing about the time difference was that at home she still had a few hours she could go get lessons ready at work and still manage a long night of sleep.

With everything packed she went back to the kitchen, ready to attack the soaking pots. She was halfway through the second when she noticed Arthur coming out of the shed. He was bent under the weight of the motorbike, his thin muscles just holding the whole thing up.

Arthur used the kickstand and strapped on one of the helmets.

Emily set down the pot back in the water and ran to the main stairs.

"Albus," she shouted up. "Al!"

There was a moment and the creak of the floor. He opened the door. "What?" he asked.

"Did you know your grandpa was taking out the motorcycle?" Emily asked.

"What?" he exclaimed. He ran down the stairs. Albus breezed past Emily and she followed. He went into the kitchen and looked out the window. Emily could hardly see past him. "Shit!"

Albus threw open the door outside and ran out. Emily followed. Grandpa Weasley was across the field and had just lifted off. Albus rushed to the broomshed, grabbing a broom as Emily stayed close. "Want me to come with?"

"No," Albus said. "Stay here in case he comes back."

Albus mounted the broom and kicked off the ground, speeding across the sky.

Emily wasn't sure that he could catch up at this point. She sat on the steps leading to the kitchen door, bouncing her knees anxiously as she waited. Emily looked down at her watch every five minutes, certain each time that it had been far longer.

Thirty minutes passed before they came into view. Albus drove with his grandfather holding on behind him. The broom was tucked under Albus's arm. He wore a scowl as he landed. Emily stood to help Grandpa Weasley dismount.

"Albus said I worried you, dear," Arthur said. "Didn't mean to frighten you."

"Oh, it's okay," Emily said, certainly breathing easier now.

"No it's not okay," Albus snapped, kicking the kickstand forcefully and dropping the broom.

"Albus—"

"What were you thinking?" Albus demanded, ignoring Emily. She had seen him moody, but never like this. He was livid. A vein in his neck pulsed as he shouted.

"I just wanted to see how the take offs went. I figured if we added—"

"You're adding nothing," Albus yelled at him. "You're done! You're done in the shop! You're done messing about! Finished!"

"Now listen here, Albus," Arthur said, still even toned though his smile was gone. "I will not be told what I can and cannot do in my own house."

"I have given up everything so you could stay here and this is how you thank me?" Albus pointed at the motorcycle. "All you had to do was ask me to take you and I would have. Instead, you try and go off on your own to god knows where, doing god knows what."

Albus stopped and Grandpa Weasley stood, arms folded across his chest with a sneer as he looked away. Emily had never thought the two looked anything alike, but in that one expression she saw it.

"Get inside," Albus said. "Just go."

Grandpa Weasley turned and did as Albus said, though Emily wasn't sure it was out of a sense of obedience. He slammed the door behind him. Albus picked up the broom, turned back to the motorcycle, and wheeled it into the shed. Emily picked up the dropped helmet and followed.

"You didn't have to yell at him like that," Emily said. She set the helmet next to the other on a shelf.

"Excuse me?" Albus said, turning his dangerous glare towards her.

"I said you didn't have to yell at him like that."

"That's right, take his side," Albus said. He threw the broom unceremoniously in the corner.

"I'm not taking any sides, but he's your grandfather—"

"What do you know," Albus snapped, turning to her. "You're not the one who has to worry about him twenty-four hours a day. Whether he's taking care of himself. Whether he's going to blow something up, himself included. You only have to worry about yourself."

"Oh please, you don't think I understand that? Do you know how many students I'm in charge of on a regular basis?"

"And the second they leave your class you're not responsible for them," Albus shouted. He turned around, grabbing tools and shoving them into drawers and onto nails in the wall. "All the time, Emily. All the time I'm in charge while trying to let him think he has run of things."

"And how does yelling help?"

Albus slammed a hammer on the workbench. He turned back to her, unmoved by her in the slightest. "Can you even imagine what it's like?" he said, this time his voice low and intense. "To take care of a grandparent who doesn't understand their own limitations? Huh? Can you comprehend the idea of their obsession taking over your entire life? Where you can't work for an hour straight without making sure you know where they are? Do you know what that's like?"

Emily felt a strong claw rip her from the inside out. She clenched her teeth, glaring right back at Albus. "I guess I don't," she said. Albus seemed satisfied by her answer. He turned back to his irritated sorting. Emily wanted to leave it at that. She wanted to walk out without another word. She wanted to go tell Grandpa Weasley that she thought Albus was out of line and that she was sorry for telling Albus at all, but her feet wouldn't move. "The only grandparent I knew was my grandma, who beat me," she said quietly instead.

Albus stopped, his hand with little bits of metal hanging frozen over a small tin.

"You know what my earliest memory is?" Emily asked, tears stinging her eyes. Albus turned around. His eyes weren't filled with anger anymore, but uncertainty. "It's not of my grandma putting a sickle in my hand. It's not of bedtime stories. I was crying. I don't even know why. She told me to stop and when I didn't she threw me against the wall with a spell. I can remember Taylor trying to pull me down as I choked under the pressure. I was two. She took to drugging me with potions to keep me quiet from then on."

Albus reached a hand out. Emily shoved it away.

"That was nothing compared to the times she'd lock me in the bathroom for hours. Or held mine or Taylor's fingers over a candle flame when she thought we were lying."

"Emily—"

"It was almost better for us in Australia," Emily continued. It was like tar had filled her lungs all these years and now all she desperately needed was to expel it. "It was better, where they put us to work under the imperius curse when we were six. Where they wouldn't give us decent shoes so we couldn't run away if we remembered who we were. At least I still had Taylor. Then she left me, too. With _your_ dad, by the way."

Albus swallowed, he was focused on her. Tears poured down her face as she composed herself.

"I thought Taylor had finally gotten tired of me, too. Then they told me she died. I was eleven and I was completely alone. I killed my mother by being born. My father left because of me. I had no one and nothing." Emily pointed towards the house. "Let alone, a sweet, kind hearted grandparent who I knew loved me and cared about my life. So you'll excuse me if I don't feel sorry for your plight, Albus Potter," she said. Emily covered her mouth and turned to leave the workshop.

"No, Emily," Albus said, he stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her.

"Stop! Let go!" she yelled, writhing to get out of his arms. He held tighter as her hands wrapped around the forearm across her chest, tugging uselessly. "I don't want you right now! I don't want this! Stop!"

Albus kept his face close, hushing Emily as she broke down sobbing, curling in on herself. Albus turned her into his chest and she found herself grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, letting herself cry. Letting herself feel the years of pain. Of burned fingers and lungs. Of hate from a woman who should have loved them. Of abandonment and fear. Fear that she was unlovable and that she had been the cause of all the hurt in her own life.

"I'm sorry," Albus whispered into her ear. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have… I'm sorry."

He repeated this over and over, kissing her neck and rubbing her back. It was like throwing up: every time she thought she had gotten it all out, a new bout of tears began. Albus didn't move. He didn't leave. When Emily's tears slowed, he pulled her back, wiping the rest away with his thumbs, his eyes searching hers for more.

"I knew a little about Australia. I didn't know all that," Albus said. He kissed her forehead and Emily closed her eyes, falling against his chest again.

"I've never told anyone," Emily whispered. She was shaky now. "Never. Please, don't tell anyone. I just want to forget I said any of that."

Albus paused. He kissed the top of Emily's head. "You have to have someone you talk to about all this," Albus said. "Taylor or your aunt—"

"No," Emily said, feeling a panic rise in her. She grabbed Albus's arms. " _No_. Especially not them. You can't tell them, Albus, promise! Promise me, please."

Albus placed her face in his hands, his eyes connected to hers. "Why not them?" he asked. His voice was calm and steady.

"They already feel guilty," Emily said. "I never want them to hurt. No one can change it, Albus. And it doesn't do anyone any good to talk about it."

"Except maybe you," Albus said.

Emily swallowed and took in a shuddering breath. "Please, don't," she whispered.

Albus wrapped her up again, his hands curving around her ribs. "I won't," he whispered into her ear.

Emily closed her eyes.

"And I'll apologize to Grandpa," he added after they stood there for several minutes. "He just scares me sometimes with the things he does, Em. He could have crashed. He could have died."

"You realize that's not the worst thing in the world for him," Emily said, not wanting to move from Albus's arms. "It might be for you, but not for him. The worst thing has already happened for him."

"What do you mean?"

"He lost his sweetheart," Emily said. "I'm guessing the rest has fallen away."

* * *

Molly and Arthur somehow got through N.E.W.T.s. Together, they did it. Molly hadn't wanted to distract Arthur, which was why she avoided telling him. Instead, Arthur worked twice as hard, knowing he needed a good job as soon as possible.

They told Arthur's parents first. Two days after the end of school, Molly apparated to their home and they sat down with the Weasleys. They took it well. Or at least as well as parents could be expected to. If it gave them hope for how Molly's parents would react, it was a false hope. Molly's dad nearly cursed Arthur on the spot. It was thanks to Fabian and Gideon he didn't succeed.

They set a wedding date a month from that day. Mrs. Prewitt eventually talked her husband around, though he was never quite a willing participant in the planning.

Arthur immediately picked up his morning job at _The Daily Prophet_ , but knew it wouldn't be enough to support them. There was an advertisement for an entry level position with the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts department. It wasn't a particular area of interest for Arthur, but it was full time with a decent level of pay. Arthur nervously sat through the interview, leaving with a spring in his step and a job offer.

The Weasley's wedding gift to Molly and Arthur was part of a down payment to a house in Devon. The day after the wedding, Arthur stood with Molly at the front door of their new house. He pushed open the door and swept Molly up into his arms.

"Arthur!" she laughed.

He carried her across the front living room and set her down gingerly. They looked around together.

"It's not much," Arthur said, scratching his head. The wood was worn, the windows were fogged over in filth and the roof needed repairs. The unfortunate truth was there were few houses in their price range. And this was on the more liveable end of those.

Molly took off her traveling cloak and walked into the kitchen. Arthur followed as she ran her finger along dusty, abandoned shelves. She got to the sink, reaching out to turn on the water. There was immediate chaos as the water sprayed everywhere.

"Oh no!" Molly shouted. She reached out and the handle broke off, more water soaking her.

"Move!" Arthur said, his wand out. Molly stepped back as Arthur tried three different spells before it finally turned off.

Molly laughed as Arthur turned, apologetically, water dripping from his hair. Arthur slipped his wand into his back pocket as he shook his head.

"What's wrong?" Molly asked, still chuckling.

"You deserve better than this," Arthur said. He looked at the cracked window that looked out into a garden full of brambles. "This isn't the life I promised you."

Molly reached out, turning his face towards her. "Yes it is," Molly said. "We'll fix it all together. Just as long as it's together."

Arthur turned, placing a hand on either side of her growing stomach. It was just a small bump still. Small enough Molly was able to wear a dress that left anyone who didn't already know unaware. "Together," he repeated.

The next few months, Arthur ran himself ragged between two jobs and the house. But it was all becoming worth it. Molly grew, her round belly the delight to every morning. Molly picked up a little seamstress work on the side, but Arthur was mostly able to provide what they needed. He proudly presented her with a brand new set of cookware, which Molly tenderly examined for an hour before she used a pan to cook dinner that night.

One evening, after clearing the garden, Molly sat at the table with a clear glass of what looked like water. She pointed her wand at it.

"What are you doing?" Arthur asked, leaning over her with his hands on her stomach. Fall was going to be winter soon and the kitchen had a slight chill to it.

"Seeing if it's a boy or girl," Molly said. Arthur straddled the bench at the table.

"How can you tell?"

"I just have to put a drop of my blood into the potion. If it turns yellow it's a girl. Green for a boy," she said. Molly looked over at Arthur. "Ready to see?"

Arthur nodded, suddenly entranced with the glass. Molly used one of her sewing needles to prick her finger. She held it over the glass and squeezed until two drops fell into the clear liquid, spreading out. The whole thing was tinged with the blood before it shifted color.

"Yellow?" Arthur asked. "It's yellow?"

Molly bit her bottom lip and nodded, tears filling her eyes. "We're having a girl!" she exclaimed.

Arthur grabbed her face in his hands and kissed her. When he pulled back, he placed kisses all around her face, then bent down, kissing her stomach. Molly played with his hair as he talked.

"We can't wait for you, baby girl," Arthur said. "The three of us. We're in this together. I hope you look just like your mother."

Work had never been so easy. Arthur was still learning and he ended each day exhausted, but the thought of their tiny human gave Arthur more energy than he ever thought possible. Even Mr. Prewitt seemed excited by the news. He came over one weekend to help Arthur build an addition to the house—stairs and small room for the nursery. They brought over the crib they had used for their own children and Mrs. Prewitt had knit a full blanket already. Although their own plans had been altered, Arthur wouldn't have had it any other way.

Molly was six months along. Her feet were swollen almost all the time. She craved roast sandwiches more than anything else. All Molly wanted to do was knit. Arthur took over cooking duties, though they both lamented the mediocre food.

"I'll cook tomorrow," Molly said one evening. "I think I'm going to lie down a little early. I've had heartburn all day."

Arthur nodded. He cleaned up the kitchen and laid out some salt to melt the ice on the front porch before joining her in the bedroom, rubbing her feet until she fell to sleep. Arthur read for a while, then laid beside Molly, his arm draping her as he drifted off.

"Arthur," Molly said, shaking him in the middle of the night. "Arthur, it hurts."

Arthur shook himself awake and grappled for his wand, turning the lights on in the room.

"What is it?" he asked. "Is it another charlie horse?"

"No," she cried, then groaned, her face in a grimace.

"Molly?" Arthur said. He stood running to the other side of the bed, taking her hand. "What's wrong?"

She doubled over again, crying out loud. Arthur enveloped her until her body relaxed. "Let's get to St. Mungo's," he said.

"Arthur," she cried.

"Come on," he said. "Come on, it will be fine. Let's just… get it checked out."

Arthur changed quickly and grabbed both of their coats. He supported Molly as she held her stomach, stopping every few feet with some sort of pain. They got to the porch and he helped Molly down the steps.

"You need to side along with me," Arthur said. "Can you hold on tight enough?"

Molly nodded with gritted teeth. Arthur gripped her close to him and turned.

* * *

Albus followed Emily with her carpet bag and portkey into the garden.

"I'm going to try traveling with the motorbike next week when I come," Albus told her.

"Great," she replied.

Emily wouldn't look at him since their exchange in the workshop. Her cheeks had lost their color. Albus placed a finger under her chin and lifted it.

"Hey," Albus said. "You know I'm here to talk about anything that you need."

Emily gave a half grin. "I think you saw enough of my crazy today."

"Sharing crazy is what friends are for," Albus said.

Emily laughed and bit her bottom lip. "Thanks."

Albus kissed Emily. "Have a good week."

Emily tapped the portkey with her wand and left.

Albus took a deep breath, scratching his head. Now he had to do the harder part. He walked into the house. "Grandpa," he called out. He wasn't in the kitchen, though Albus wasn't expecting that. He walked through the living room and saw his grandfather on his bed through the open door to his grandparents' room. A peach, knit blanket was drapped across his lap. There were other things laid out on the bed: a rattle, a lock of vivid red hair, and Grandma Weasley's wedding ring. Grandpa Weasley's gaze was distant. Albus walked over, sinking onto the mattress beside him. "I'm sorry I exploded earlier."

Grandpa Weasley didn't say anything, but shrugged.

"Look, none of us want to keep you from doing things that make you happy," Albus said. "We just… don't want to lose you."

"Everyone dies, Albus," Arthur said, looking at him. Hearing him say it so directly made Albus profoundly worried. Worried for the day it was true. "I'm old. It's coming. I'm ready for it."

"Yeah, but we aren't," Albus said. "Grandpa, we still need you. I still need you."

Arthur ran his hand over the knit blanket. His bottom lip quivered and he nodded, his eyes filling with tears.

"Can you just… do these things with me?" Albus asked. "The motorbike and the building. All those things?"

"Sure," Arthur said quietly.

They looked at each other and Albus realized Emily had been right. Grandpa Weasley wasn't all here. His heart was already on the other side. Albus cleared his throat.

"Now," Albus said, rubbing his hands together and standing. "What was it you thought we should add to the bike?"


	9. Unhear

_**Unhear**_

Albus pulled up the drive of Emily's house. His landings still left a little to be desired. He looked down at his watch. If he was calculating right, it only took half an hour. Albus smiled. _Not bad_ , he thought. Grandpa Weasley still had a few tricks up his sleeve, apparently. He had difficulty performing the spells, but the ideas were solid. Of course, Albus had made him promise to watch some of the movies Emily left behind for the night. Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione would be by in the morning, so Albus figured it would be fine.

"How was the maiden voyage?" Emily asked Albus, coming around the side of the house while he was still checking that everything had stayed put in transit.

"Pretty good, actually," Albus said. "Got a little bumpy along the coastline."

"I've heard there are continental charms from the Revolutionary War still in place," Emily said. "I'm sure their drastically faded."

"Really?" Albus asked, looking over. "Hasn't your country realized that war is well over?"

"We know you Brits can't be trusted," Emily said with her customary smirk.

Albus tried to remember when that look stopped irritating him. "Well, you're right on that count," Albus said, smiling as he stood. He used the shop towel from the saddle bag to wipe off the grease from his fingers. He stepped towards Emily. "We may still try and send in spies."

"I knew it," Emily countered with a chuckle. "That's all this ever was, isn't it?"

Albus reached out, pulling her into him, then dipped her back.

"Yes," he confirmed.

Emily threw her head back and laughed, holding to his arms. "We better make the most of it then, before our forces figure you out."

Albus pulled her up and kissed her, careful not to touch her clothes with his still-soiled hands. Emily placed her hands on his chest and pulled back, looking into his eyes. She swallowed and the carefree moment melted away.

"You going to Lily's this evening?" she asked. Albus set her back up on her feet.

"No, not visiting them this time," Albus said. "I'm all yours."

"Oh," Emily said, surprised. "Uh, well in that case, could we drop by my school so I can shuffle a couple things around?"

"Sure," Albus said.

"Then I can take you to see New York!" Emily exclaimed. They had talked a few weeks before about how Albus had never been there. He had to remind Emily that he, unlike her, lived an ocean away. She was still dumbfounded. "Oh Mab, Albus, you're going to love it!"

Albus smiled, glad to see the genuine joy return. They went inside and he dropped off the small bag he brought.

"Did you bring the extra helmet?" Emily asked. Albus waved his wand and the second appeared in his hand. "You're so smart."

Albus grinned and got onto the motorbike, making adjustments as Emily climbed on behind him, wrapping her arms around him. "I'll need directions," he reminded her.

They soared over Pennsylvania as the sun set. The fields were different than those back home: more gold than green. They took a left when they came close to the sprawling city lights and made their way down at the lawn. The academy looked like an overly large home. The main building had four large columns spanning three stories and was made of red brick. The classrooms were built into a large rectangular shape with a courtyard in the center.

"Where are the dormitories?" Albus asked.

"About two hundred yards south," Emily said, taking off her helmet. She nodded behind them. "The one you can see there? That's for the girls. The boys are on the other side of the hill."

"Interesting," Albus said.

"You'll have to see them during the day. They're converted colonial homes."

"Miss Davis?" a voice came from their left.

They both turned. Emily moved to get off the bike. "Hey Sarah," she said. "What are you doing over here on a Friday evening?"

"Studying for Mrs. Lancaster's test Monday," Sarah replied. "But what are you doing here?"

"You don't think I actually manage to get things during regular school hours, do you?" Emily said with a smile. "Sarah, this is my friend, Albus Potter. Albus, this is one of my best students."

In the dimming, Albus saw Sarah blush. He remembered Emily talking about Sarah. She was obviously a favorite. He wondered how much this girl—who looked mousy and uncertain—needed that.

"Good to meet you, Mr. Potter," Sarah said.

"Albus," he said. "Just call me Albus."

"Actually, she shouldn't be calling you anything, because I thought I heard there was an exploding snaps tournament in the dorms and someone needs to put down their books for the rest of the night," Emily said, giving a look of mock disapproval.

Sarah giggled. "Okay, Miss Davis," she said. "I'll see you Monday."

Emily reached over and hugged her. "See you later, hon."

They stood, watching as Sarah ran off in the direction Emily pointed out as the dormitories. Sarah was far off before Emily said anything. "Her dad still only writes her maybe once a month," she said with a sigh.

"That's too bad," Albus said.

"It's ridiculous," Emily replied, then looking over. "I think the motorcycle will be fine there. Pretty sure any of the kids I'd worry about will be busy with exploding snaps for another few hours."

Albus shrugged and followed her through the hallways. He could see why Hogwarts would seem impossible to navigate compared to a school like this. Everything was so logical. Boring, even. They walked along marble tile and Emily unlocked her classroom, turning on the light.

She shuffled around the main area as Albus walked over to her desk. There were messy stacks of paper, three mugs with dregs of coffee at the bottom, and a clutter of quills, ink wells, and letterhead.

"How can you stand this?" Albus asked. Even now he couldn't help reaching out and restacking the papers so they were meticulously aligned.

"Hm?" Emily asked, half turning. "Oh, don't touch that! I won't be able to find anything."

"There's no way you can find anything now," Albus argued. He opened a drawer and stopped, looking up at Emily, whose wand was pointed at him.

"Don't. Touch."

Albus pressed his lips together and closed the drawer.

"If you want to help, the chairs need to be unstacked and put at the desks," Emily suggested.

Albus knew he had to do something to keep busy or he would attack the desk again. Emily shuffled around, pulling out boxes and organizing objects as Albus slowly set the chairs out. She finally went to the desk and he watched out of the corner of his eye. Emily would look at one item and when it was apparently not what she needed, she'd casually drop it into a haphazard stack on the other side of the desk. Albus could barely bite his tongue, reminding himself that this wasn't his classroom. It wasn't his work space.

There was a knock at the door.

"Hey there beautiful," they said. Albus turned and watched a man with blonde hair and chiseled features walk through. He had an easy smile as he walked towards the desk. Emily rolled her eyes.

The man took a double take towards Albus and stopped in his tracks. Apparently he hadn't noticed Albus before then.

"What do you want Eric?" Emily asked.

Albus was pleased to note he was entirely forgettable. He didn't see anything important about the man in front of him. Eric had a sort of swagger like he thought he was special, but in Albus's experience, such people rarely were.

Eric took a moment before he turned back to Emily, not quite regaining the same nonchalance. "I noticed the light on in your class," Eric said. "I was finishing up some lesson plans and thought maybe you'd like to go grab drinks when you're done? You seemed to be having a rough week."

"Sorry, can't," Emily said tersely. Albus wondered why she didn't just say no. That she didn't want to. At least she wouldn't make eye contact with him. "Headed to sight see after I figure out a couple things."

"Is this a cousin of yours?" Eric asked.

Either Eric had been the worst boyfriend in the world—even Albus knew Emily didn't have any cousins she knew of—or (Albus thought more likely) he was trying to keep the conversation going.

"No, this is Albus," Emily said. "Albus, Eric." The introduction was more obligatory than the one she'd given Sarah.

"Good to meet you, Albus," Eric said, stepping over to reach out a hand. Albus took it, immediately met with a tightening grip. Albus could have rolled his eyes. He refrained from either that or become a participant in the apparent competition. "Eric Cowler."

"Yeah," Albus said. "Emily's told me a lot about you."

"Can't say the same," Eric said. It was a pathetic dig. Albus just smiled as Eric pulled his hand away. "On Monday let's talk about that joint lesson for the junior class?"

"Sure," Emily said.

"My room will be clear during your prep," he added.

Albus swallowed as Eric's eyes glinted towards him, gauging a reaction. Albus took a chair and sat back, trying to act as though he weren't paying any attention.

"Fine, see you then," Emily said. Eric opened and shut his mouth a few times, but he turned, his eyes boring into Albus as he walked towards the door.

Albus waited until he was well out of the room. "What joint lesson?" he asked.

"It's something we've done every year since Eric started here," Emily said, still moving things from one pile to the other. "The second to last year they can take a magical creature training course. We plan a lesson or two together on charms for training."

Albus sat, waiting to see what Emily would do next. She stared at the same page in her hands for a full minute before she tossed it aside. "You know, I think I've done all I can here," she said, forcing a grin. "Let's get going, shall we?"

They made their way back to the lawn and took the motorcycle most of the way to New York through the sky.

"Go around to the north side," Emily suggested. "Entering from Jersey is the worst."

Albus put three extra charms on the bike after finding a place to leave it and they walked around the crowded streets. Emily pulled him into a pizza place, insisting that she would buy. "It's an honor to buy you your first slice of New York pizza," she said with a smile.

As they finished this, Albus bought ice cream and they found a park to sit at.

"What did Eric mean that you had a rough week?" Albus asked.

Emily didn't look at him. She licked at her ice cream intently, taking her time to answer. "You can't pay attention to what Eric says," Emily replied.

"It's not just what he said. You keep zoning out," Albus said.

Emily sighed and looked away. Albus didn't force her attention back but tucked her hair behind her ear.

"Is this about what happened last weekend?" Albus asked.

"Maybe," she said, not turning back.

"Grandpa and I got back on good terms," Albus said. "He actually helped get the motorbike in perfect order."

"That's good," Emily said. She looked down into her lap.

Albus leaned back on the bench, running his fingers across Emily's back.

"You know when you haven't heard a song in ages and the second you do, it's like it's been playing there all along?" Emily asked.

"Yeah," Albus said.

"It's like that," Emily said. "Only the lyrics are so much worse than I thought."

"Do you want to forget or remember?" Albus asked.

"Neither," Emily said. "Both. I don't know."

"And it's my fault for turning on the radio," Albus said.

"It's not that though," Emily said, turning towards him. "You of all people weren't supposed to hear it. And there are things you can't unsay. Or unhear."

"That makes you apprehensive with me now," Albus said. Emily nodded. "You know, the best way I find to get a shitty song out of my head, is to start another."

Albus reached out for Emily's hand. He traced shapes on the back with his other one. "When did you start living with your Aunt Josie?" he asked.

Emily took a deep breath, and looked over at him. She was deciding. "Well, when everything happened at the compound, Taylor pretty much became a superhero in Australia," she said. "Which pretty much made me her little damsel in distress."

Albus smiled as she chuckled at the idea.

"I guess Aunt Josie was reading reports and saw Taylor in a picture. Aunt Josie said we both look like our mom."

"Does Josie not have pictures?" Albus asked.

"Only a few from when they were much younger. I guess I see it in those a bit. But my dad didn't leave any pictures behind when he left," Emily said. She swallowed, but didn't quite check out the same way.

"So Josephine just went to Australia?" Albus asked, getting back on track.

Emily finally looked at him smiling as she nodded. "I had no clue what was happening. Taylor never told me we had an aunt. By the time I was old enough to understand what that meant, Taylor had given up on the idea we'd ever see her again. Aunt Josie cried for pretty much three days straight," Emily said, laughing. "Happy tears, but still...I think I asked Taylor if there was something wrong with her eyes."

Albus laughed. Emily moved her legs, draping them over Albus's knees as he pulled her closer. She continued to tell him stories of moving to the United States. How Lily was the real first friend her age. "Back in Australia I was hanging around all the people Taylor was working with. I liked your mom, when I saw her," Emily said. "I really liked your Uncle Charlie, actually."

"Do you remember Dakota at all?" Albus asked.

"I don't think we saw her much," Emily said, thinking. "She lost her boyfriend or something, though, right?"

"I think they might have been engaged, actually," Albus said. "James and Imogen's youngest is named after him."

"That's right," Emily said. "I think I knew that."

"I had the biggest crush on her," Albus said, looking off thinking.

"What?" Emily laughed. "You weren't there, though."

"No, but she was one of the people my mum kept close to. We would go visit her and the older lady she lived with. Stayed there for a few days one summer when we were trying to get some information."

"But she's so much older than you!"

"Only five years, two months," Albus said.

"You don't have it memorized down to the day?" Emily laughed.

"Six, I think," Albus said. "Come on, she was beautiful and smart and very sweet."

"Yeah, I suppose." Emily couldn't stop chortling. "How far did the crush go?"

"Well, she got married before I could ever get out there and take my shot," Albus said. "Of course, I expect this stays between you and me. James would be unbearable if he knew."

Emily spent a good twenty minutes poking fun at Albus and coming with a few dozen scenarios that could open up the possibility again.

"I think my interest has waned," Albus admitted.

"Yeah, forty year olds. Yuck," Emily said.

Albus shook his head at her and Emily jumped up, pulling him to see more. Albus wasn't sure how he felt about Time Square, but rather enjoyed the architecture of Grand Central Station.

"So what do you think of the city overall?" Emily asked.

"It's too crowded," Albus said.

"But that's what makes it fun," Emily said as they walked around to find the motorbike. "Come on, you're not in love with New York?"

Albus shrugged.

"Well that's it. We can't leave until you're in love with New York," Emily said. "We'll just have to get a hotel room."

"Mmm, no," Albus said.

"Come on," Emily said. She grabbed his hand and made a pathetic pouting face. "Please?"

Albus looked around. Wherever they had ended up, they were finally away from the crowds. It was well past midnight and he took a deep breath. "Okay, fine," he agreed.

Emily pulled him back the way they came. They wandered for another forty minutes until they found a hotel they could both agree on. Emily went into the bathroom, taking a shower first, then Albus took his turn. They both fell back onto the bed, towels around them as Emily laid against his chest. Emily continued on about all the things Albus was supposed to love about New York.

"Why do _you_ love New York so much?" Albus asked.

"It's the first place Aunt Josie and I went together," Emily said. "Taylor had just left for the internship in Romania and I was still getting used to her. I was… upset. And Aunt Josie woke up one morning, called into the school to let them know she would be gone—told them I was sick—and we spent the whole day here."

Emily looked up at Albus, but he just nodded. "I think that's reason enough to love it," Albus said.

"Well, we'll go to the some of the museums tomorrow. You'll love it, too," she said confidently.

They laid quietly. Albus had his arms around Emily. She wasn't anything like he had once assumed.

"Is there anything you really feel you missed because of… everything?"

"I don't know. Aunt Josie made up for a lot of it," Emily said. She hummed as she thought. "Swimming."

"Swimming?" Albus said.

"We used to go to this cabin with a pond, but I couldn't swim," Emily said. "All the kids in the area would go out in the deep areas and I was stuck in the shallow end. Aunt Josie was going to teach me, but then we learned about grindylows at school and I changed my mind."

"You know, grindylows are bottom dwellers," Albus said. "You have to go very deep for them to be problematic."

"I don't care," Emily said. "There are things that are swimming around under you. It's creepy."

"Yeah, I guess," Albus said with a smile.

"I'd still like to learn someday," Emily said. "You know, in case I have kids. So I can teach them. I wouldn't want them to have to stay in the shallow end."

* * *

"You are free to leave, but we would like to see you in here in two weeks for a follow up," the healer said, taking Molly's pulse. "You need to rest and be sure to take your potion regularly until it's gone."

Arthur held Molly's hand as she nodded. A single tear fell from the outside corner of her eye. Two days. Two days of healers and discussions and explanations, but none of it mattered. The baby was gone. Molly had asked a single question in all those meetings.

"Did I do something wrong?"

Arthur was in a daze when this was answered. Nothing, they said. A woman's body sometimes did these things. Maybe her body knew the baby wasn't healthy. They were both young and there was no reason to believe this meant anything for the future of a family. Arthur could think of nothing to say. He rubbed Molly's back and held her as she cried when the healers left, but he couldn't fix this. He couldn't take care of Molly, and all he wanted was to take care of Molly.

Arthur held the box with vials of potion portioned out. He filled out the paperwork for her release and took her hand. They walked out of the hospital and onto the sidewalk. Arthur let go of Molly only to pull out his wand.

"Arthur," Molly said, her voice cracking as the tears began again. He turned towards her, the rush of the Knight Bus, blowing her hair back as it halted in front of them. "I want to go home."

"We are, Molly, love," he said with an assuring nod. He turned to lead the way onto the Knight Bus.

"No," she said, grabbing his wrist. She held him back a moment. "I want my mum. I want to go home."

Arthur's heart collapsed as he enveloped Molly in his arms. She gripped to his side, sobbing into his shoulder. "Okay," he muttered, fighting back his own tears. "Okay, Molly. Whatever you need."

* * *

Emily chaperoned a field trip the week after their New York escapades. Even after an entire day in New York, Albus would only allow that he understood why she loved the city. She shook her head at him, but let it go.

When she came to The Burrow two weeks after, Albus left half a dozen tasks he probably should have gotten to at his desk, watching a movie with her and Grandpa Weasley instead. His mind didn't wander to work at all. All Albus could think of was how he wished Grandpa knew. Then he could pull Emily into him. They could watch the movie comfortably tucked into one another, instead of waiting for the moment they were behind closed doors.

Saturday morning she was helping Grandpa Weasley sort through some flowers they picked in the garden. Albus came down the stairs.

"I have to go into the Ministry," he said.

"On a Saturday?" Arthur asked. "When's the last time they needed you on a weekend?"

"It's been a while," Albus allowed. "I should be back in a few hours."

"Alright," Arthur said, turning back to the basket.

Albus nodded his head towards the door to Emily, then went outside, walking around the corner and to the opposite side of the broom shed. He checked his watch over and over. A quarter hour passed before he heard the door open and close. Emily walked around and he snatched her, covering her mouth as she gasped.

Albus let go as he turned her to see him. "Sorry," he said. "I thought you'd scream."

"I almost did," Emily said. "What are we doing?"

"Just come with me," Albus said, smiling as he grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the forest.

The trees became dense and Albus had to pull on the memory of his youth, of running through this place with his siblings and cousins to navigate. He paused at a fork to think.

"I should warn you," Emily started, out of breath. "Leaves and twigs in my hair are a real turn off for me. So—"

"Just quiet," he said with a laugh. "This way."

They walked another five minutes before they came to the lake. It was a small lake. Hardly could be called that at all, but in the height of summer, the water would be filled with children. It was just warm enough that day to justify the outing.

"What are we doing?" Emily asked, looking less amused.

Albus took off his shirt. "We're going swimming," he said. Emily's smile faded.

"Albus—"

"It will be fun," Albus said. "I'll bet we'll have you swimming like a fish in a couple hours."

"Albus—"

Albus stepped over and cupped Emily's face in his hands, kissing her. "Do you trust me?" he asked.

Emily looked around him at the lake. She held her breath for a moment. "Yes," she said with a sigh, stripping down as well. Albus and Emily were both in their underwear when she walked to the water's edge, dipping in her toe. "It's still chilly."

Albus finished folding his clothes in a neat pile and walked by, picking her up.

"It's better if you just go for it," he advised. Emily laughed as she curled up her knees, avoiding the water as Albus's walking splashed it around her.

"Okay, okay," she grimaced and stood in water up to her knees. Albus waited until she was ready. "Now what?"

Albus laughed. "Well, we have to get far enough in to actually swim," he said.

Albus lead the way, Emily taking it slow, and stopping as soon as the water came up to her chest. "That's as far as I'm going," she said.

"Good," Albus said. "Now, the key is for your legs and arms to work together. Long strokes, not quick kicks."

Emily nodded. She moved her hands in the water and Albus grabbed her wrists, guiding her movements to push against the water a little more.

"The more pressure you feel from the water, the more effective your movements are," Albus said. He moved his hands to her rib cage. "Ready to use your legs?"

Emily looked apprehensive, but nodded. Albus leaned back, holding her up at arm's length. She gripped onto his forearms and kicked choppily behind her, water splashing. Albus stopped her, showed her as he swam around, then they tried it again. Emily became more comfortable in the water and Albus floated, swimming backwards while supporting her.

"Use your arms and legs," Albus said.

Emily did, clumsily at first and more confidently a few minutes later.

"I think you're ready to swim on your own," he added.

"No," Emily said, splashing a bit. She looked behind her, suddenly realizing that they'd gone even farther from the shore. "No, Albus, don't—"

"I'll be right here," Albus said, kicking back just out of reach as Emily grappled.

"No! Albus!"

"You're doing great," he said.

"Grindylows!" she shouted, stretching to keep her mouth out of the water. "Albus!"

"There aren't grindylows in here, I promise," Albus said with a grin. "Just a little more."

Emily made quick, awkward kicks and Albus finally stopped so she could swim into him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging tightly. "Take me back! Albus Potter! Take me back now!"

"Emily," Albus said, his hand on her back, still floating. "Put your feet down."

Emily looked at him, then let her legs down to find the water wasn't any deeper here than where they started.

"It doesn't get deeper for another thirty yards that way." Albus nodded his head towards the center of the lake.

She hit his arm. "That was mean."

"But you did it," Albus said.

Emily scowled, a smile underscoring as she leaned forward, pushing him under the water by his shoulders. Albus grabbed her elbows and pulled her along. They both came out of the water, Emily sputtering and pushing her hair from her eyes. Albus reached out and helped, leaning in to kiss her. Emily wrapped her legs around him as Albus lifted her up, holding her sides as she held his face in her hands.

"I wouldn't let anything happen to you," Albus whispered. Emily smiled, pressing her forehead to his. Their lips were a breath away from one another as Albus looked into her eyes. Emily's own eyes looked down at his lips, lining them with her thumb. He swallowed. "I love you," he said.

Emily blinked, pulling back her face. "What?" she asked.

Albus reached up, tucking her wet hair behind her ear. "I love you," he said.

When his eyes met hers again he noticed they were wide and steady. Her body was stiff in his arms. Albus moved his hand to her cheek, which triggered something in her. Emily moved her face away from his hand and she fell back into the water, her arms pulling away. Albus reached out for her.

"I have to go," Emily said, turning away from him.

"Emily?" Albus asked as she treaded through the water towards the lake's shore. He followed. "What's wrong?"

"That's not what we were doing," Emily said, not even looking at him. "That's not what this was supposed to be."

Albus moved faster as Emily hit the shore, running to her clothes, digging for her wand. She dried herself, her hair going soft before she reached down for her jeans.

"I just… I do," Albus said. "I love you."

"Stop saying it," Emily said. "Please."

Albus ran a hand down his face. "Emily, can we please just talk?"

"Not right now," Emily said. She put on her shirt and Albus cut her off in her path. "Albus not _now_."

"Why not now? I'm not asking you to say it back. Why are you so bothered?"

Emily folded her arm. "That was not the deal," she snapped. "Complications and feelings and… that wasn't the deal."

"Forget the deal," Albus said. "Aren't we passed some silly deal?"

Emily tried to sidestep Albus and he reached an arm around her waist. "Albus," she said.

"How could I not fall in love with you?" Albus asked. "Everything important that's happened in my life the last six months has included you. Are you saying you don't care? Even a little?"

"Of course I care," Emily said, looking at him, eyes still filled with fright. "You've become one of the best friends I've ever had, Albus."

"But you don't love me."

"I'm not saying that," Emily said.

"So you do?"

"Stop it," Emily said, pulling away from him, stumbling as she pulled the left heel of her shoe on all the way. "I don't know, so stop putting words in my mouth. I just… I have to go."

Albus ran for his pile of clothes, then hurried after Emily. "Just forget I said it!" he shouted.

"I can't," Emily replied. Albus got hold of his wand and apparated right in front of her, stopping her again.

"Why not?" Albus asked.

"You can't unhear some things, Albus," Emily said. She rested back on her feet, looking away as she rubbed her temple. "I promised Lily I would make sure no one got hurt."

"Wait, Lily knows?" Albus asked. "Since when?"

"She made me tell her at Christmas," Emily said.

"And you didn't think to tell me that?"

"I didn't want added pressure," Emily said, turning back to him. "This was just you and me and casual fun."

"Which part was most casual, Em? The part where we've spent every spare moment together? O-or how about when you told me things about your past you haven't even told your aunt?" Albus asked. He licked his lips. How did she not see what they were, he wondered. How had she not seen how much she meant to him? "We aren't just casual friends."

Emily took a deep breath, but still wouldn't look directly at him. She shook her head. "It was supposed to be simple."

"So, let's go talk."

"No," Emily said again. "I need to think. I… I'll talk to you later."

She turned as Albus reached out, but she was gone. His hands grappled at thin air as he dropped his clothes from his arms.

Albus left his clothes there. Still dripping in his boxers, and his skin prickled with cold, Albus paced back and forth, trying to figure out out what had just happened and how, in the name of Merlin, he was going to fix it.


	10. Pulled Apart

_**Pulled Apart**_

Emily took the first drink of coffee, turned to the sink, and spat the whole mouthful out.

"I wondered when you'd realize you were putting salt instead of sugar in there," Fiona said with a smile.

"You couldn't have stopped me?" Emily asked, pouring the rest down the drain. She rinsed out the mug to get some more.

"I needed solid proof to hold over your head that you're having trouble, sweetie," Fiona said. She crossed her legs, leaning back against the counter in the teacher's lounge. "You keep saying it's nothing and I know that's not true. Now, what's going on?"

Emily went talk to Lily the day after Albus said he loved her. Lily sat back, taking it in with a neutral expression. Emily knew she was upset by the news.

"Do you want to end things?" Lily asked her.

"I don't know," Emily said honestly. She needed someone to tell her what to do and Lily wasn't complying.

"I think you need to decide first," Lily said. "And… I hate to put pressure on you, but it's my brother's heart on the line. The sooner the better."

After that reaction, Emily was reluctant to go to anyone else. She thought about talking to Aunt Josie, but just the thought of explaining the backstory stopped her. Emily could only imagine Aunt Josie's reaction to her arrangement with Albus. Adult or not, Emily didn't want to see that level of disappointment.

Emily wasn't sure she wanted to tell Fiona either. She was a mentor and friend, but Emily hadn't kept her in the loop with everything else.

"Let the cat out of the bag, Emily," Fiona said. "Or I could use some veritaserum."

"You don't have any veritaserum."

"Are you willing to bet on that?" Fiona asked, raising an eyebrow and lifting her mug to her lips.

"Regardless, I don't think I can manage that conversation right now and then go teach," Emily said.

"Well, Reggie's at a conference in Kansas. How about I bring a bottle of wine to your place tonight?" Fiona suggested.

"Spiked with veritaserum?" Emily replied with a raised eyebrow.

Fiona scoffed. "Don't forget how well I know you. If I give you wine, I won't need veritaserum."

Emily laughed for the first time all week, putting sugar into her fresh cup of coffee. She powered through classes, trying to be productive in the hour after the students left. Like every other hour of solitude, she could only find herself back in Albus's arms, listening to the three words that altered what they had.

There was a part of Emily that delighted in playing the words over again in her mind. _I love you_. Her heart fluttered. She could see the look of sincerity in his eyes. She wanted to go to him now and hear it again.

Then Emily realized she didn't know if she could say it back and the good feelings ended. Yes, she loved him. She loved him as a friend. She loved him as the person who had been there for so much. And, above all, Emily loved him in a way that meant she didn't want to hurt him. But she could not, in good conscious, be with him or tell him she loved him too unless she meant it the same way. And that, she didn't know.

Even worse, it wasn't like being on different levels of feeling in a new relationship, where you could wait and see what happened. You could see if they grew on you. Time was on your side. Not when you had been sleeping together for six months and acting like a couple, even if it wasn't in front of others. Suddenly little trips to grab things for each other at the grocery store or helping with chores were charged with meaning. Emily just wanted to step back two weeks where they could just be without all of this.

Emily muddled through the rest of the day and managed to avoid Eric as he tried to fight a crowd of students between them. The bell rang and Emily wanted to get home. Eric called her name and Emily didn't turn around as she strode to the apparition point in the courtyard. She spent several hours organizing, then pulled out some cheese, crackers, and meats, making a tray so that it was ready as Fiona arrived.

Fiona popped the bottle of wine open and poured Emily a rather full glass. "Drink up, m'dear," Fiona said. The spring evening was nice. Emily lead the way to the front porch, drying off the chairs sitting there and casting a charm to keep the mosquitoes away as they sat. Emily explained everything. Fiona was an excitable audience. She squealed with glee as Emily explained Christmas and other particular weekends and trips.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me about all this," Fiona said, pouring second glasses for both of them. "For future reference, this is exactly the sort of thing I want to hear about.

"You haven't heard the problem yet," Emily said. "This last weekend I was visiting. We were… at this lake near the house. Albus was teaching me to swim—"

"You don't know how to swim?" Fiona asked. Emily gave her a look. "Right, not the point."

"Anyway, it got quiet and _I_ thought we were just about to… do something else in the lake… when he said he loved me," Emily said.

"I don't see the problem."

"Fiona, I don't know what to do with that," Emily declared. "We weren't in a relationship."

"It kinda sounds like you were, sweetie," Fiona said.

"But _I_ didn't think we were," Emily said. "I can barely process it. I mean, even with Eric, I didn't say I loved him for at least a month after he did. But it's _Albus_. I can't make him wait around and see, you know?"

There was a lull as the crickets in the approaching evening chirped.

* * *

Albus sunk into the spot beside Grandpa Weasley. He was watching one of the movies Emily had brought the weekend before. Albus couldn't help but think he was going to need to return those. The thought depressed him. He leaned back, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. He couldn't believe he'd screwed this one up too. When it was some vapid woman who was pushing within a month of getting to know one another, Albus counted it a gain rather than a loss. This was Emily, though. He should have eased into that conversation. He should have waited until he knew how she felt. Instead he killed the mood and possibly everything else.

"You alright there Al?" Grandpa Weasley asked.

"Yeah," he muttered. "Fine."

Grandpa Weasley turned back to the movie, picking at chocolates in a bowl he had. Albus thought about going out into the workshop and find something to do. Most of Sunday he threw himself into work, but after Tuesday he found that his attempts to distribute the work backfired, leaving him with nothing else to do in the evenings. The night before he took the motorbike on a long ride, making minute adjustments that probably didn't have any real effect.

Albus sat for another five minutes, then went into the kitchen, making an elaborate meal, soup, and chicken, and creme brulee for dessert.

"What's the occasion?" Arthur asked as he came in. "Is Emily coming?"

"No," Albus replied.

"What day is it?"

"Thursday," Albus said, setting one of the two plates in front of his grandpa.

"Oh, tomorrow then," Arthur said. "I have a book I was going to give her, if you could remind me."

"She's not coming tomorrow either, Grandpa."

"Really?" Arthur asked. Albus sat with his food, not looking at his grandpa. "Well, what did you do?"

Albus stopped mid-bite, looking over. "What makes you think it has to do with anything I did?"

"The way she rushed out of here last week made me wonder," Arthur said. "You didn't upset her did you?"

Albus set down his fork, grinding his teeth.

"Ah, so you did. And here I thought you were finally dating someone you couldn't get to like that," Arthur said, eating his own meal.

"Who said anything about dating?"

Grandpa Weasley gave a huffing laugh. "I'm old, Albus my boy, not blind," he replied. "You think she's been coming all this time and I wouldn't realize what she was actually here for?"

"Well, it wasn't to date me," Albus said honestly. "Not really."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Arthur asked.

Albus looked at his grandfather. His expression was steady and his head tilted. Before Albus knew it, he was spilling everything that had happened the last few weeks. He explained how he was realizing the feelings since February. The circumstances made him wait until he was sure. He had been certain. The way she looked at him and the way they were wrapped in each other whenever possible had given him reason to believe his words would at least be received, if not reciprocated.

"Well there's your problem," Arthur said.

"What?" Albus asked. In one sense he knew he had done wrong by telling Emily. In another, he couldn't reconcile words of love with the reaction they elicited.

"You didn't fight," Arthur said.

"Fight?" Albus asked. "I tried to get her to listen to me, Grandpa! What else was I supposed to do? She left!"

"It's not about forcing her to stay," Arthur said. He leaned onto the table, animated in a way Albus had never seen from his mild-mannered grandfather. "It's not about words. It's about proving yourself, Albus. Love isn't making her listen, it's about allowing her to see."

"So what am I supposed to do?" Albus asked. "I'm wide open to suggestions."

"Grand gestures, Albus. So long as they're sincere," Arthur said.

Albus scratched at his head, trying to understand. "You're suggesting I just show up at her place this weekend and—"

"No," Arthur said. "Heavens no. Why would you wait for the weekend? Frankly, I'm disappointed you've stuck around this many days when it's obvious you need to at least try something."

"She won't even be home for," Albus looked at his watch, "another hour, I think."

"Albus, don't find problems. Make solutions," Arthur said. He wiped at his mouth with a napkin and raised one thin finger, standing to leave the room.

Albus pushed around his untouched food around his plate. Grandpa Weasley was almost finished himself, but Albus had found his appetite gone. When Grandpa Weasley came back, he set a simple gold ring in front of Albus. Albus looked up at him, then back down to the ring, picking it up.

"Grandpa," Albus said.

"It's Molly's," Arthur said, then swallowed. "When we got married, we had no money. I bought her that one when she found out she was pregnant with your Uncle Bill."

Albus turned it in his hands. The main stone was a ruby, not a diamond, though there were a four small diamonds spaced along the band. On the inside, engraved in script, it read _To my forever._

"I can't give her this," Albus said. "She had a panic attack when I said I loved her. How do you think Emily would take a proposal?"

"Just hold onto it," Arthur said. "You give it to Emily at the right time. And you fight. No law you pass, no triumph that will give you accolades, none of it... none of it is worth a damn without love, Albus."

Albus's heart pounded at the thought. Emily. The ring. The call to action.

"I think you have somewhere you need to be," Arthur said with a grin.

Albus pushed back from his chair. He ran up to his room, grabbing his jacket and shoes. He found a small satchel and buried the ring deep inside, placing the satchel into a zipped up interior pocket. He still didn't know what to say, but Albus had a ride across the sea to figure it out.

As he passed through the kitchen again, Grandpa Weasley had grabbed one of the desserts, digging in. Albus walked over and kissed the top of his head.

"I'll just watch a movie and head off to bed, then," Arthur said.

"Thanks Grandpa! I'll be back!" Albus promised, bursting out the door and going into the shop to grab the motorbike and helmet.

Albus made his way across the sky, chasing the setting sun with bursts of speed, allowing him to catch up. When he landed in Pennsylvania, the afternoon had taken back over and he drove up the road and into Emily's drive. He parked the motorbike behind the garage on the side of the house and, pulse racing, he walked up the porch to the front door and knocked. The anticipation was let down when he knocked a second time and no one showed up.

Emily wasn't home yet.

Albus let out a breath. That was okay, he thought. In truth, his thoughts were still completely scattered. He thought of where the local town was and apparated down the road, walking the rest of the way. Albus had just barely enough muggle money on him for a large bouquet of sunflowers. He sat on the bench at the local park and organized what he wanted to say.

The longer he sat, the more he thought was needed. Top on the list, he decided was that Emily needed to know he understood the risks. He knew what he was asking for and he wanted to take that risk with her, if she was willing.

At one point he pulled out his grandmother's ring, turning it in his fingers and imagined kneeling in front of Emily as she opened the door. He would take her hand and hold her there, ask her to let him get through what he needed to say. He simultaneously wanted to do it and knew it would not help. No, that was a step that would have to wait. First, he had to set things straight.

Albus stood, the darkening sky a sign that he needed to get going. He had to do it now, or he was sure he'd lose his nerve.

Albus walked the whole way this time, citing a sort of outline to the most important things Emily needed to hear. As he got closer he noticed the porch light on. He saw two people sitting there and Albus swallowed. He walked closer to the house and stopped as he heard his name.

"Albus isn't what I _ever_ wanted," Emily said.

His stomach lurched. He had intended on going right up, apologizing for the interruption with whoever Emily was visiting and asking for a few minutes. Now, he swallowed, his ears buzzing.

"I mean, he's nothing like the other men I dated, Fiona. For one, he has no fashion sense. And I wanted someone who could just have fun and joke. I'm always having to keep myself in check with playful banter, because he'll end up feeling wounded. It's like I told you before… completely incompatible. But now…"

Emily let out a long sigh and the flowers fell from Albus's fingers onto the ground. He tensed his jaw. This was a mistake. He turned around.

"Well, it's really something you just have to bite the bullet with," Fiona said.

Albus walked around the back of the house, their voices disappearing.

Albus wondered how he could have been such an idiot. How he could have let himself get carried away like this. How he could have fallen so hard for someone who thought so little of him. He wished he'd never come.

* * *

Emily sipped at her wine.

"What are your choices then?" Fiona asked.

"Either let him go or jump into something more serious," Emily replied. "The thing is, I think if I choose the latter, we may be closer to marriage than I was with Eric."

"And?"

"And that's a place I don't know if I'm ready for. Besides do I want to tell my children that story?" Emily said with a little bit of a laugh. "I mean, our first date was a favor and I seduced him. Looking back I can't even remember what made me do it. I just remember it being something I had to try."

"Blame the British accent, darling," Fiona said. She reached over for cheese and crackers.

"The thing is, I kind of want to make the jump. And I know it's insane."

"No more insane than love is in general," Fiona said.

"You don't get it," Emily said. "Albus isn't what I _ever_ wanted. I mean, he's nothing like the other men I dated, Fiona. For one, he has no fashion sense. And I wanted someone who could just have fun and joke. I'm always having to keep myself in check with playful banter because he'll end up feeling wounded. It's like I told you before… completely incompatible. But now…"

"Well, it's really just something you have to bite the bullet with," Fiona said. "I'd like to point out that since I've known you, you've dated three men. The first was a sociopath. The second pretty much used you as a sugar mama. And the latest cheated on you with a fellow co-worker. I think different is good."

Emily looked at Fiona. "You're right," Emily said.

Albus had been good. More than just the sex. None of the other men had put her first and Albus had done so since the night he took her to the work dinner. After she had made a point of how she didn't like the way he looked, he took her hand and helped her through the night. He had come to check on her—not to clear himself or make a move, just to check that she wasn't adversely affected. He always seemed to know exactly when she needed his arms around her. Just thinking about his arms made Emily suddenly feel lonely. She had a crazy urge to go to the Burrow just to be held. She didn't want anyone else. She wanted Albus.

"Still, I can't do it if I don't love Albus the same way he loves," Emily said. "My mind keeps shifting between seeing the relationship disintegrate almost immediately, leaving us both worse than if I just did the right thing now. And then I think of cutting everything off now... and I realize I've stopped being able to imagine my life without him in it."

"Hate to break it to you, darling, but that sounds like love to me," Fiona said. Emily looked down at her nearly empty glass in silence. "As a side note, you can change his wardrobe once it's official. You just buy new shirts or pants every couple weeks and start cycling out the other things. I did that with Reggie."

Emily smiled and bit her bottom lip, setting down her wine glass. This weekend she would go and work things out.

There was a sudden noise of an engine starting up nearby. She turned towards the garage. A headlight shone on the grass of the lawn and Albus came into view on the motorcycle.

"Isn't that him?" Fiona asked as Emily jumped to her feet.

"Yeah," Emily said, her brow knit as Albus turned onto the road. Why would he come all this way and not say anything, she wondered. Then her mind sifted through everything she had just said to Fiona. Had he heard? As she watched him ride off she was suddenly certain he had. And if he hadn't stuck around, perhaps that wasn't a good thing. "I'll be right back."

Emily apparated, thinking of a signpost down the road that same direction. She popped into the middle of the road, looking around her. Emily turned and the headlights blinded her as she threw her arm up to shield her eyes. "Albus!" she shouted as he swerved to avoid her.

Her stomach dropped as the motorcycle skidded out from under him, Albus's body being dragged along the road with the bike. His helmet came off as he threw his arms over his head. Emily pulled out her wand, frantically trying to soften and slow the effect of the crash, then everything halted. Albus didn't move at first and Emily ran.

"Albus!" she shouted. "Oh my god! Albus!"

Albus groaned, his right leg pinned under the motorcycle. She reached over and heaved the motorcycle up first. Albus gripped his leg. Emily knelt beside him, feeling his leg and mending it with her wand. Emily leaned in, searching Albus's face. In the dim streetlight she saw the abrasions cutting up the skin all along the right side of Albus's face and neck. The same side of his jacket was shredded. His glasses were skewed, the frames bent, though the glass was intact.

" _Reparo_ ," Emily said, touching her wand to them.

Emily reached out her hand to examine the cuts and Albus lifted his arm with a grimace, blocking her. He pushed himself up, struggling as he stood. He moved, limping in the effort.

"Albus," Emily said. "Let's go back to my house. We can get you fixed up and talk."

"Oh, so _now_ you're ready to talk?" Albus snapped at her. Emily stood up, her mouth feeling dry as she swallowed. "Thanks, but no thanks." Albus tried to grab his bike, but something was wrong with his right arm as he struggled to hold it up.

"Don't strain yourself," Emily insisted, stepping up and grabbing the motorcycle from the other side.

"Just leave me alone, will you," Albus yelled. "It's what you should have done from the start."

"Albus, I don't know what you heard—"

"Plenty," Albus said. He gave up on the motorcycle, leaning it against the kickstand again. He walked around for the helmet. "Not stylish enough for you. Not enough of a laugh. Easily hurt. I got a pretty good list there."

"Albus, that's not what I meant."

"And here I was, some daft fool convinced to come pour my heart out. Again," he said.

"Albus—"

"I can't believe I let myself think you were different!" Albus shouted at her. "I had myself convinced that I was wrong about you! I should have known when you were so set on keeping me a secret. You weren't worried about people knowing what we were doing. You were worried they would know you were doing it with me."

"That's not true!"

"Sorry for ruining your _fun_ ," Albus spat. "Don't worry, I've learned my lesson this time. I won't bother you anymore."

Albus mounted the motorcycle a second time. He placed on his helmet and Emily felt a sudden panic at the thought. That was not what Emily wanted at all.

"Albus, please don't leave like this. I can explain—"

"Save it for the next idiot," Albus said. "Sorry things didn't stay simple enough for you."

Emily called after him as Albus kicked the motorcycle into gear and sped away from her in the dark. She saw the light move upward and knew he was gone. She had messed it up. She had messed up the best thing that had ever come into her life.

* * *

Work dragged day in and day out. Arthur came home and made himself sandwiches, then would go to sleep. He tried on two different days within three weeks to see Molly. Her father wouldn't let him passed the porch. The second time as Arthur turned to go, Fabian and Gideon came out.

"Come on, mate," Gideon said, putting an arm on his shoulder and directing him with the two into the town tavern. They bought Arthur a drink and let him talk everything out.

Arthur found himself in tears, wiping at his eyes. "I know your family was angry with me for Molly getting pregnant, but everything was finally right. And now…"

"It will be alright again," Fabian promised. "Dad won't admit it, but Molly misses you. She's just working through this in her own way. Molly reads your owls over and over again. Keep writing to her."

Arthur nodded, feeling a small sense of hope at that.

The next night he went back to his own family's house. The Burrow was too depressing without his wife there with him. His mother brought him one thing after another, Barbary seeming more than happy to take advantage of the abundance of treats suddenly coming their way. Arthur reached out to help shell peas as Barbary asked to go spend time with some local friends.

He stayed the night and then the next. By the weekend, Arthur was having trouble seeing how anything was going to change. He found himself wandering around the woods, thinking of Molly and the baby and wishing that going back with a time turner would do any good. If he could go back in time and keep from losing the baby he would rob the Department of Mysteries in an instant.

Arthur didn't even know where he was going until he was at the abandoned house, sitting there looking as it did the last time Molly and him had been there. He walked inside. Dust had settled everywhere. In the spots with cracks they hadn't fixed, little weeds and grown. Someone had broken the windows in the smaller of the bedroom and rain had done some damage, but it was otherwise as they had left it. Arthur sat in the middle of the living room.

Arthur had made promises to Molly right here. The two of them made promises about forever. About each other. Arthur had thought if he had Molly, nothing could ever be wrong in the world ever again. Never did he imagine that once they were married anything bad would happen.

Arthur pulled out his wand. He pointed it at one of the floorboards, ripping it up from its spot. Tears leaked out of the corners of his eyes, his bottom lip trembled. This house was a lie. The promises lies. This wasn't supposed to be their story. Not like this. He screamed at the top of his lungs. Birds cawed as they flew off the moss-filled roof. Arthur used his wand to pull out one piece of wood after another. Some cracked and splinters. Some were easily thrown across the cabin's main room.

He finished and fell back against the wall, slumping down to the floor as he looked around, pieces of wood scattered and broken. Arthur swiped his sleeve across the bottom of his nose and leaned his head back.

"You know, baby girl, you were the one thing we had," Arthur said, looking up at the ceiling. Then he thought about that. No, the baby wasn't the only thing they had. They had been together since they were fourteen. Five years and a baby wasn't needed to know that it was right. Yes, they were missing her right now. He never thought he could miss someone besides Molly so much. But this was all wrong. They needed each other. The pieces were already scattered. They needed to do something with them.

Arthur took a deep, shuddering breath and stood, gathering the best of the pieces of wood he'd already started. He went through the house. This time he looked for specific pieces. He pulled them up carefully, keeping long planks where he could. Last, he went to the exterior, finding logs that ran along the exterior. When he was finished, he bundled them all, using his wand to bind them together and levitate them in front of him. Arthur had one more meal with his family, then took the pile of wood back with him to the Burrow. To his and Molly's home.

He would make things good again. He had to.

* * *

Albus landed, his right arm killing him as he pulled up to the workshop. He stumbled under the weight of the bike as he used his left arm to push it inside. He sat at the workbench for an hour, digging his fingers into his hair. He should have known better. Grandpa Weasley was a damn romantic idiot. He was just lucky he found his sweetheart at Hogwarts. Albus had always fought against this soulmate mentality that infected his family, feeling like he would be more like Uncle Charlie. He'd had it right in the first place.

Albus set his arm against the table and twisted until the joint popped back into place. It felt better, if still exceedingly stiff. He gingerly touched at his face, seeing what he could in the shop window. He would fix the rest of it in the morning, he decided. It was past one and Albus was emotionally and physically exhausted.

Albus walked into the kitchen. Plates were still out, his own dinner still mostly untouched. Albus sighed, ignoring it and making his way into the living room. The television was still going, the same little scene with a menu playing over and over from the last movie.

"You still up Grandpa?" Albus asked, walking into the room. He didn't get a response. "Grandpa, why don't you go to bed," he added.

Albus came around the couch, Grandpa Weasley laid out across the cushions, eyes closed and terribly still. Albus squatted next to him. "Grandpa?" he said. His stomach churned unpleasantly. He shook Grandpa Weasley's arm. "Grandpa?"

Grandpa Weasley didn't move. He didn't open his eyes. Albus swallowed and reached out to feel his cheek. The warmth had already escaped his skin.

Albus's eyes filled with tears as he turned, sitting with his back against the couch. He wrapped his arms around his knees and sobbed.


	11. Funerals and Birthdays

**A/N:** Holy reactions to last chapter! I usually post, knowing I'll probably hear from a few of you at a slow, steady trickle. Since I upset so many of you, I made time between paper writing today to bust this one out. Not exactly fluffy, but hey... 11 reviews compared to the usual 5... ya'll earned it! Thanks again for the reviews. If you're reading along and haven't chimed in (or chimed in for a while) I'd love to hear what you're thinking! And to the guest reviewer going through a rough time: not sure how this all helped but that is one of the biggest compliments I could imagine. And in case no one's told you lately... things get better. Always.

 _ **Funerals and Birthdays**_

Emily checked her hair once more in the mirror at the inn bedroom. Her eyes were already swollen from crying and she knew it wasn't over. Lily sent Emily an owl Friday afternoon and she had been a mess ever since. She ended up taking all of Monday and Tuesday off. Fiona took over her classes, which was far easier than preparing for any other substitute. Emily took a portkey Monday afternoon and stayed awake until late, hugging a pillow and trying to imagine how she could talk to Albus. She needed to in the worst way.

After he left, Fiona talked Emily down from her panic. The next morning she saw the mess of sunflowers and felt even worse. Carefully, she picked them up and used a couple charms to fix them. Emily put them in a vase before rushing to work, deciding she had to try and see Albus that weekend. Then she found out about Arthur and the date of the funeral that Tuesday and she knew it would have to wait.

As Emily followed the gathering crowd she tried to shuffle into the back discreetly. Ginny saw her, pulling her into a hug.

"Dad loved having you around," Ginny said into her ear. Emily swallowed back tears as Ginny pulled away, holding Emily at arm's length. "Come on up front."

"No, Ginny, I'm fine back—"

"Don't be silly," Ginny interrupted. "You became good as a grandchild to him. You'll sit with us."

Ginny kept her arm around Emily's shoulder and guided her up towards the front.

"It's Aunt Emmy," Abigail said in a loud whisper, poking Lily. There were children all around, sitting in the laps of various aunts and uncles.

"Hi Emily," Lily said, standing with Callie on her hip and reaching out to kiss Emily's cheek. Emily looked over towards Albus. He didn't look back, but kept his elbows on his knees looking down at the ground. "I'm glad you were able to come."

"I wouldn't have missed it for anything," Emily said.

"Why don't you sit here, by Lily," Ginny suggested. "I need to go back to greeting with my brothers for a little longer."

"Of course, thank you," Emily replied. Abigail jumped up from the seat, more than happy to sit on Emily's lap instead. Abigail turned, hanging her arms around Emily's neck, hugging her tight.

"I'm so sad, Aunt Emmy," Abigail said.

"Me too, hon," Emily said, swallowing. She looked to her right. Albus was looking at her. They held each other's gaze for a few moments. Emily noticed the right side of his face was still covered with cuts and a massive bruise on his cheek before he turned away again. Emily closed her eyes, grateful for the little arms around her as she hugged Abigail back tightly.

Just before the service began, Ginny and Harry made their way through the aisle, taking the seats next to Albus. Emily kept glancing over, seeing Ginny rubbing Albus's back. Nearly everyone was in tears. Except Albus. Emily noticed his eyes focused on some mysterious spot on the ground under the chair in front of him. She wiped away her own tears and rocked Abigail back and forth as each of the siblings stood to speak briefly.

Soon, they were all standing. The five brothers each took a space by the coffin along with Albus, who took the last pallbearer position. The entire mass walked around the property towards the small, local graveyard. There on the headstone read _Molly Prewitt Weasley_ with a large hole in the ground just in front. They set the coffin on the support and waited until everyone arrived to lower it down. A few more words, more tears, and Albus turned, conjuring a group of flowers in his hand. He bent down, handing a stem to each of his nieces and nephews. He stood, did one more charm and held a sunflower, holding it out to Emily.

Emily gave a small grin, accepting it. Albus gave her the smallest of nods and turned away, still unsmiling. One by one the guests left until there was only the family left. Lily reached out an arm around Emily's waist before she could turn to leave. "You'll stay for dinner, yes?" Lily asked.

Emily nodded and put her arm around Lily as well, standing with the large group of aunts and uncles, cousins, children, grandchildren, and looked down at the resting place for the closest thing Emily would ever have to a real grandparent.

Emily had hoped the gesture of the sunflower might be a sign, but Albus busied himself in the kitchen, conducting a crew of cousins as they cooked, warmed, and got the food ready. Emily helped watch the younger children as the group of Arthur's children and their spouses all sat around the living room, exchanging stories.

"What's this thing?" one of Rose's children asked, pointing to the television.

"It plays movies," Andreas said. "Grandpa Weasley invented it."

The adults who knew about it all laughed and Emily smiled as well. Albus walked in, rubbing his hands together, flanked by a couple others.

"Actually, Albus got him hooked on that thing," Ron said. "Isn't that right, Al?"

"I guess I started it," Albus said with a shrug. "I think Emily has some blame though."

Albus didn't look at her when he said it, though some of the children she didn't know peppered her with questions about what it did and how it worked. Albus stayed on the opposite side of the room, not looking at Emily, though she glanced over every few minutes. Dinner didn't get any better on that count as Emily sat and Albus found a seat far down in the garden, Cara hanging around his neck. Even her playfulness hardly motivated a smile from him.

Emily found herself alone with Lily before she could even try with Albus.

"I need to talk to him," Emily told Lily.

Lily nodded. "He's been avoiding all private conversations, if that helps," Lily said. "I tried this morning before the funeral. He won't let us put anything on the road rash, either. Or tell us how he crashed."

Emily felt worried and ill. "That was my fault," she said, crossing her arms. "He overheard a conversation I was having about him and was leaving. I was trying to catch up to him. Albus missed me, but couldn't keep upright."

Lily's eyes went wide. "What did you say?"

"I don't even remember, exactly," Emily said. Tears, which had been flowing so readily all day, sprung to her eyes. "I think what he heard was when I was telling my friend about the reasons I wouldn't normally date someone like him… but I don't know. And the thing is, I know what I want, but I think I ruined it."

"Oh, Emily," Lily said. She pulled her into a hug as Emily covered her eyes. Lily rubbed her back as Emily tried to get herself back together. "I'll try and talk to him, if you want."

"No," Emily said, taking deep, steadying breaths. "I think it should come from me. He didn't seem very happy to find out you knew."

"Yeah," Lily said, still sounding uncertain. "When were you planning on going home?"

"Not until I talk to Albus," Emily said. "Fiona said she can cover tomorrow too, if I need it."

"Just let me know if I can help."

Emily waited, staying with the main group as several members of the extended family left throughout the night. Lily told Emily who was staying, but she couldn't remember the whole list. At around ten, she noticed that Albus had disappeared. Emily went up the stairs when she could sneak away, but Albus wasn't in his room. She went back and through the kitchen. Out the window she could see through to the workshop. The light was on.

Looking back, Emily watched that no one saw her as she slipped out the kitchen door and into the workshop. Albus sat at the bench, holding one of the tools in his hands, turning it over and over. The whole shop was spotless—more so than Albus's normal obsessive cleaning.

"Albus?" Emily said softly, her heart racing.

Albus turned on the stool facing her. The bruise and cuts didn't get any less shocking to see. "Hi," he said.

"I wanted to come say how sorry I am that he's gone," Emily said, her eyes filling again.

"Thank you," he muttered. Albus pulled off his glasses, folding them up and setting them on the workbench. "And thanks for coming. My family really appreciated it."

"Albus, I—"

"Did you see the box by the kitchen door, by the way?" Albus cut her off. "I put all the videos in there. And the player."

"You can keep the player," Emily said. "The movies are my aunt's."

"I don't need it," Albus said. "You can have Grandpa's television if you want too."

Emily nodded. Albus still hadn't looked at her directly since she came in. "About the other day—"

"Yeah, I… I shouldn't have just showed up like that," Albus said. Emily moved over, standing next to him, leaning back against the counter. "It was a mistake."

"Was it?" Emily asked, her voice threatening tears as much as her eyes.

"Didn't anyone tell you how he died?" Albus asked, finally looking at her. His face was filled with bitterness. Emily shook her head. "It happened when I was gone. In Pennsylvania."

Emily had figured as much. Or at least that it happened shortly after. She waited, Albus's green eyes tortured by the facts.

"It was a stroke, they said. He fell asleep and had a stroke," Albus said, his voice choking at the end.

"So you blame me?" Emily asked.

"No," Albus said as though that were ludicrous. "I blame myself."

"That's just as misplaced," Emily said.

Albus looked away from her again, shaking his head. "Wizards rarely die from a stroke. All they need is someone there to perform a simple charm. If I'd been here, he wouldn't have died."

"Albus—"

"I had one job here and I failed," Albus said. The tears missing from him all day seemed to surface and Albus struggled, wiping a hand down his face and swallowing back the tears.

"Is that why you won't let anyone heal your face?" Emily asked. Albus gave a halfhearted shrug. "No one blames you. You did so much for him."

"Well, it doesn't matter now," Albus said, looking down, his hands on his hips.

Emily reached a hand out to his arm. Albus didn't move. Emily stepped in. She raised her other hand, pushing some strands of Albus's hair out of his face. Her fingers lighted over his skin. She touched his bruised cheek with the back of her hand and Albus suddenly dodged her fingers, breaking his arm away from hers.

"One more thing," Albus said, digging into a pocket. He pulled out a ruby and gold ring. "Grandpa, er… got some ideas in his head at the end. I think he'd want you to have this." Albus pressed the ring into Emily's palm and she played with it between her fingers. "It belonged to Grandma."

"I can't—"

"Just do me a favor," Albus cut her off again. "When you're ready to pass it along, can you make sure it goes to one of Lily's girls?"

Emily closed her mouth and nodded.

"Thanks," Albus said. "And thanks again for coming today. Grandpa enjoyed your company a lot."

Albus walked away, taking long strides towards the door.

"Albus," Emily choked out, but he didn't turn around. She sunk into the stool, bending over and crying into her hands.

As soon as she pulled herself together she left the workshop and apparated into the inn's room, gathered her things, and took the portkey home. It wasn't until she arrived that Emily realized she probably should have gone to say goodbye to the others. She was selfish and awful.

"Send them an owl tomorrow," Emily whispered to herself, unpacking and changing clothes. She looked around the house for something to do, but decided she didn't want to be there. Not alone.

It was nearly six o'clock. Emily turned and apparated to the school courtyard. There was always something to do here. She needed to prepare the lessons for the rest of the week. She needed to go over whatever notes Fiona left her. She needed to dig in and forget everything else.

Emily strode quickly to her classroom and sat at her desk. She began by sorting through everything. She took the stack of mugs back to the teacher's lounge, she reorganized the piles of homework that needed grading, and read the letter Fiona left for her on how the classes went. Even Fiona's snarky tone couldn't penetrate the pain that surged through Emily's heart.

As Emily worked through the senior level papers, she cried, sniffed, and blubbered at varying intervals. Her trash was nearly full with tissues.

"Emily?"

Emily turned towards the door where Eric leaned against the frame, brows knit in concern. She grabbed more tissue, took in a breath and pulled herself together.

"What can I do for you?" she asked, pushing her chair back from the desk.

"I was just about to ask the same thing," Eric said. He strolled into the room, sitting back on the corner of the desk. "I heard you were gone for a funeral."

Emily nodded. "Yeah," Emily said, wiping at her nose.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Eric asked.

Emily shook her head. She didn't want to talk about any of it. Not about Arthur. Not about Albus. Not about how her own shallow stupidity had destroyed the happiest time of her life. She leaned forward, dipping the quill into the ink and tried to pick up where she left off.

"Em," Eric said, reaching out a hand and turning her face towards him. "I'm here for you, Em."

Emily needed to hear those words so badly that it didn't even matter that it was coming from Eric. She tried her best to hold back a new wave of tears. Eric lifted her by her elbows and wrapped Emily up in his arms. He rubbed her back and Emily found herself crying into his chest.

"I'm here, Emily," Eric said. "I'm here, baby."

Eric's hold was different than Albus's. It was more possessive. But Emily didn't care. Right now, she just needed to be held.

* * *

The day after the funeral Albus immediately began going into the office for work again. Over the following two and a half months he steadily took over more of the projects again until he always had something to keep him busy.

Back at the Burrow he was finally able to make the changes Grandpa Weasley had been so resistant to. Albus got rid of the ghoul in the attic. He demolished and rebuilt certain areas so they were no longer tilted or unstable. He redid the rickety staircase, replacing it with a new spiral one so that either could be used easily. For the sake of nostalgia, Albus put little nooks where children could easily hide away still. He stripped away wallpaper, repainted, and set aside all the pictures to go through and figure out who would get which ones.

There were a few things he hadn't touched. One was the kitchen. Grandma liked it this way, Grandpa had said. Albus kept her pots and pans, working around them the way he always had. Then there was their bedroom. Albus hadn't even touched that room.

His mum arrived late one Thursday night in the middle of July.

"Hi, sweetheart," Ginny said, kissing Albus's cheek. He took her bag and set it down at the table.

"I'm almost done with dinner here," Albus said. "Isn't Dad coming?"

"He has a meeting with the Headmistress about a special class he wants to teach for N.E.W.T. students next year," Ginny explained. She took off her traveling cloak. "He's staying with Neville and Hannah for the night and he'll come to help tomorrow."

"Alright," Albus said. He went to the stove and dished out the pork and potatoes, setting a plate in front of his mum, then went to get his own. "How has everything been?"

"Good! You remember Jana Kramer?" Ginny asked.

They caught up on several people either had seen and Ginny dug through the freezer, bringing out ice cream for dessert.

"This place is looking great, by the way," Ginny said.

"We should be ready to sell by the end of the year."

Ginny sighed. "That's going to be hard," she said.

"Maybe we should have one last big family gathering here," Albus suggested. "You know, before some of the younger cousins go back to Hogwarts. Set up the tents… have a big cookout... "

"You know, that's a great idea," Ginny said. "I'll talk to your uncles and we'll get something going for next month."

Albus nodded. "Are you going to Lily's for Harriet's birthday?"

"Not this year," Ginny said. "I heard she keeps asking for Uncle Al, though."

Albus smiled. "Yeah. I'll go out there for the better part of a week."

"Are you going to see Emily while you're out there?"

Albus froze and licked his lips. "Why would I do that?"

Ginny tilted her head and gave him the _do-you-think-I'm-stupid_ look. "What happened between you?" she asked.

"Merlin, is there anyone who didn't bloody know?" Albus said and leaned forward on his elbows, staring down at his ice cream. "We weren't actually dating. Just spending time together. And it ended."

"Albus," Ginny said with a sigh.

"Look it's not my fault," he snapped.

"I didn't assume it was."

"I wanted more and Emily didn't," Albus said. He hadn't thought about it in weeks. Finally. When he did after Grandpa Weasley's death, it brought up too much guilt. Guilt over leaving, guilt over not being there for his grandfather, guilt over yelling at Emily when it wasn't her fault he had read too much into what was between them. "It's as simple as that."

"Really?" Ginny asked. "I don't know, Albus."

"What don't you know?"

"She bought you glasses for Christmas, sweetheart."

"I'm aware," Albus said. He sat back, folding his arms across his chest.

"Albus, love, we all realized the two of you were carrying on something at Christmas," Ginny said.

"Who's _we all_?"

"You father, James, Imogen… we all wondered," Ginny said.

"Lily didn't tell you?" Albus asked. He wouldn't be surprised. Albus had avoided the conversation with his little sister so far, though he didn't know how long that could last.

"She didn't have to," Ginny said. "I went to put something in your bedroom. Emily's shoes were in there. Plus you didn't think very hard with that gift wrapping excuse to get alone with her. You've been a better gift wrapper than me since you were thirteen."

"Why didn't you say something about it then?"

"We thought you'd be less likely to bungle it if we weren't involved," Ginny said. Albus scowled at her. "We've always wondered if part of your troubles in dating had to do with pressure from us. We all like Emily and wanted it to have the best chance possible. And it seemed pretty obvious she liked you. We thought it was you dragging your feet. We didn't know it was the other way around."

Albus didn't say anything, but pressed his lips together, biting the inside of his cheek. He wanted to go on a tirade, but he knew there was truth in what she said. Granted, most of the women he dated wanted to be introduced to his family long before he wanted to introduce them.

"Sweetheart, we support you in whatever you do," Ginny said. She laid a hand over his. "We want you to be happy—"

"I am happy," he growled.

Ginny gave him a sympathetic look. "You haven't been happy at least since Grandpa died. I don't care if you end up married or if you find your passion somewhere else, but don't tell me you're happy when you're not."

Albus's eyes teared up against his will. He leaned forward, circling the bowl of ice cream with his spoon. "I let you down, Mum," Albus said. He hadn't been open about this to his family. This, perhaps, was why he couldn't get his head out of the moment. They didn't know how much they should hate him.

"Oh, Albus," Ginny said. "You could never—"

"I took the motorbike to try and… talk to Emily… and he was gone when I came back. I shouldn't have left him." Albus pinched the bridge of his nose, his chest constricting.

Ginny moved to his side of the table, sitting beside Albus and pulling her into him. "Shhh," she said.

"I was supposed to keep that from happening," Albus said. "I was… I was supposed to save him."

"Sweetheart, Grandpa lived a full life," Ginny said. Tears were rolling slowly down her cheeks now as well. "What I didn't want was it to end in a violent accident, but his body gave out on him. It's part of this life."

"I could have saved him if I was here."

"You don't know that," Ginny said. She pulled back, turning his face toward her. "We don't know that. It could have just as easily happened after you went to bed. Right? These are the sorts of things we don't have control over. We try, but we never really do."

Albus wanted to believe her. He had spent so much time steeped in the belief that he could have stopped this that it was hard to reverse. What did stick was that _she_ didn't blame him. Somewhere in the back of Albus's mind he had imagined his family finding out and they would then know how terrible he was.

"I do want you to move on with your life," Ginny said. "It was one thing for Grandpa to stay here and not leave. His whole life had been here, but your life is ahead of you."

Albus nodded. "I think I'll get a place closer to work."

"You know," Ginny said, shifting uncomfortably,"your Aunt Hermione was telling me she's heard of some complaints among your department."

Albus stiffened. "Why would she be telling you about it?" he asked.

"Don't get upset," Ginny said. "I guess your employees liked the changes when you were handing things over to them to take care of. Hermione was worried you working so much has gotten you out of the habit of delegating."

Albus had heard some comments along these lines. He usually waved them off, telling those working in his department that he just wanted to make sure everything was where it should be. If he were honest with himself, he wanted more to do. He couldn't handle more than a few hours in the evenings alone here, and already did so much on the weekend that it wasn't needed.

"Why don't you find a project to do. Something just for you?" Ginny suggested. "Or use some of that time off you've stocked up over the years."

"Yeah, maybe," Albus said. He would at least have to go back to how he did things before, if people had started to complain over his head.

Ginny changed the topic, to Albus's relief, and he took her around to show some of the other improvements before they both settled in for the night.

"Tomorrow we'll go through their master bedroom, alright?" Ginny said. "We'll do it all together."

Albus nodded. It was the final step in realizing that Grandpa was gone. Really gone.

When Ginny had gone to bed, Albus found he couldn't sleep. He pulled on some shoes and made his way into the workshop. He had rarely been in here since his last conversation with Emily. On occasion he found he needed a tool or some nails, and he would come in and out. He looked around. A fine layer of dust had settled over the workbench. Albus grabbed a rag and dusted. He pulled through drawers, looking at half finished projects and scraps of batteries, metal and wood.

Wandering over to Sirius's motorbike, he looked at the exterior—still dented and scraped up from the crash. He hadn't wanted to look at the thing again, but now he realized he needed to fix this. Is wasn't just something related to that terrible moment that he knew Emily wouldn't reciprocate his feelings. It wasn't just an obsession of Grandpa's, which now reminded Albus of him in the worst way possible. It was the motorbike of someone dear to Harry and Ginny. It was the bike he took Emily on rides around the country. The vehicle to the happy moments before the bad ones. It was all the time he got to spend with his grandfather at the end.

Albus looked around the workshop again. It was almost a complete transformation. No longer was this a mausoleum to his grandfather's memory, it was the place where it could live on.

Albus pulled out one of the blocks of wood and some of the tools his grandfather had taught him how to use. He didn't even know what he was going to make, but making suddenly became vital. Albus didn't sleep as he carved and shaped the piece of wood.

A project was what his mother wanted him to find, and a project was what he had.

* * *

The gaggle of little girls cheered Albus the way nothing else quite could. There was still more to sort in Grandpa's room, but over the two weeks they were almost there. Of course, this included going through Grandma Weasley's things as well. Their clothes had all been donated to a second hand shop, the bed was fixed up, and they spent hours going through love letters from school between the two. This, perhaps, was why there was anything left.

Albus and his parents sorted the items as they went, intending to distribute them when the family gathered in the middle of August. It would be a four day weekend, and so far the majority of the family would be there. The occasional cousin wrote to say they could only make it for part of the time, but they all seemed pleased with the idea of coming together at the home they all knew so well.

"Lorcan officially got the time off," Lily said as Albus flipped pancakes for breakfast.

"Can you make mine look like a Niffler?" Callie asked.

"Sure thing," Albus said, using his wand to shape the next one. "You'll be there the whole time, then?"

"Yes," Lily declared. "You're going to help me set up for the party today?"

"Of course," Albus said, flipping and pouring a new one. He slid one onto Abigail's plate. "Careful, it's hot."

Lily helped her pour the syrup and went back to feeding Millie. "You know, Emily's coming, right?" Lily asked.

Albus ground his teeth and licked his lips, turning back to the stove. He had been here for two days. he should have figured it was too good to hope she wouldn't come up with Lily.

"I guess I should have figured."

"And she's bringing Eric," Lily added.

Albus turned towards her, dropping the niffler pancake off the spatula and onto the floor.

"Oh no!" Cara said, slapping her forehead with her hand.

Albus took out his wand, cleaning the pancake and starting another. He waited, focusing on the breakfast and finishing before he sat down. By the time he was eating, the girls had all run off to play.

"Why?" Albus asked quietly.

"She started seeing him again. Last month sometime, I guess," Lily said. "She told me about it last week when she visited."

"But why him?"

"She was kind of defensive about it," Lily replied. "But I think she was just lonely. She always has sort of been that way. Serial dater."

Albus wanted to come to her defense at the same time that something roared through his insides, an anger he didn't understand or like.

"Look, I just didn't want you to be blind sided," Lily said.

"Thanks," Albus muttered.

"And I don't want to get involved, but—" Lily took a deep breath, gathering herself "—but I don't know if she's really gotten over you."

"Me?" Albus asked.

"Yeah, you," Lily said with a half grin. "Didn't she talk to you at the funeral?"

"No," Albus said. "I mean, yes, but… just for a mo."

"Didn't she tell you?"

"Tell me what?" Albus asked, getting frustrated. For all of Emily's demand for secrecy, Lily knew even more than him and he found it obnoxious.

"She wanted to try and make things work," Lily said.

Albus's stomach bottomed out. He slumped back in the chair. Lily reached another spoonful of baby food to Millie.

"No," Albus said. "No, she talked about how she thought we were wrong for each other."

"That's not what she told me," Lily said. "I mean, I think she used to believe that."

Albus took in this new information, poking at his pancakes. Abigail came in a moment later and dragged him away to be part of her tea party. He stewed on Lily's words, unable to gain more information as playing turned into party preparation, followed by the arrival of friends. Most of them were people from the school Lily took her girls to. Four or five different families who Albus was introduced to.

Then there was Emily and Eric. They arrived, hand in hand and Emily beamed, setting a box with their gift on the table, then holding her arms out for Harriet, who wore a tilted paper crown.

"How's the birthday girl?" Emily asked, hugging Harriet tight to her.

"I three," Harriet said, holding up her fingers how Lily had taught her.

Emily laughed. Albus missed that laugh. And Lily's words still rang in his ears. But there was Eric, smiling right behind her at his niece.

"You sure are," Emily said, kissing her cheek. Emily turned towards Albus and gave him a half smile. "How are you doing?"

"I'm good," Albus said, running a hand through his hair. "You?"

"Good," Emily said. "You remember Eric?"

She stepped aside and Eric held out his hand again. Albus wondered how much he knew. He shook his hand stiffly and narrowed his eyes in a way that indicated he knew enough.

"Sure do," Albus said. Of course he remembered. He remembered how Eric made Emily feel when he cheated on her. He didn't say as much, though.

Eric put his arm around Emily as soon as the handshake was over. "Emily was telling me about some of the places you took her to see in England," Eric said. "I'm taking her to Paris next week. Been there much?"

Albus dug a hand in his pocket. "Can't say I have," he said.

"Oh well," Eric said. "I was hoping you might have some must see's you could tell us about."

"We're spending the whole time in the Lourve," Emily said with a smile.

"We'll see about that," Eric replied, leaning over and kissing her cheek.

Albus wanted to pull Emily away and talk some sense into her. How could she go back to this kind of asshole? He felt more angry than he had ever felt towards a near stranger and Albus wondered if it was because of what Lily told him.

Was Lily mistaken? Had Emily really told Lily something she hadn't told him? But even if she had, maybe it didn't matter now that she was back with Eric.

"Come here, Uncle Al!" Abigail shouted from where nearly a dozen children were coloring.

Albus was glad to get away from the small talk with Emily, though it wasn't long before she was between Callie and Cara, coloring with them. Emily was smiling and Albus kept looking over until he caught her attention. They looked at each other and Emily tilted her head. Albus swallowed.

"Aunt Emmy," Callie said. "Look, Aunt Emmy, I drew Ivy for you!"

Emily's smile faded, though Albus wasn't sure why. "She's very pretty," Emily said.

"She's sad, Aunt Emmy," Callie said.

"Why?" Emily asked.

"Because," Callie said, kicking the grass beneath her chair. She was fading away from the discussion.

"Because why?"

"Because you're not talking with her daddy," Callie said.

Emily swallowed, though it all sounded like nonsense to Albus.

"Come on, Callie," Emily said in a forced, chipper tone. "Let's draw something else."

The party passed pleasantly enough. They played games, most of which were designed for toddlers, and cut cake. Harriet made quite the effort to blow out all the candles by herself, though Lorcan was right behind her with his wand out, helping sneakily as she kept blowing too high over the flames to have any effect.

Lily said goodbye to the last guest and everyone started carrying gifts, left over cake, and supplies inside. Albus stayed out, folding up the table cloth.

"Let me help you with that," Eric said, taking the other end. They folded together, Albus taking it and putting it in a pile, turning to stack other things. "I know what went on between you two."

Albus looked at him, shrugged, and placed the napkins on top of the paper plates.

"You're not even enough of a man to own up to it?" Eric asked, standing right behind Albus, talking low.

"I don't have anything to own up to," Albus said. "It's not your business as to what happened. Emily can tell you whatever parts of it she'd like."

"I just want to make sure you're clear on one thing, buddy," Eric said. Albus turned around at being called _buddy_ , raising an eyebrow. "Emily was only slutting around with you because she missed me."

Albus took one beat, turning back to what he was doing, his hand balled into a fist. In one fluid moment, he turned, his elbow bent and flung his fist across the side of Eric's face.

"You son of bitch!" Eric shouted, holding his face.

Albus had never realized punching someone could hurt so damn much. He was holding his own fist when Eric threw him back with a spell. Albus fell onto his shoulder in the grass and scrambled up quickly, holding out his own wand. Eric tried to stun and Albus blocked it stepping closer.

"You jealous?" Eric said with a sneer. "Emily told me how you said you loved her. Obviously didn't get the point of you."

Albus slashed down and Eric stepped back. He threw another curse and Eric stumbled, though it didn't hit him fully. "That's enough," Albus said.

Albus loosened his grip, making a point of putting his wand back into his pocket.

"Uncle Al!" Abigail shouted and was running out at the same time Eric decided to throw another jinx.

Albus had time to do only one thing. He took two long strides, pulled Abigail into his body, and crouched to cover her at the same time something thin and hot whipped across his shoulder blade. He grimaced, but didn't move from shielding Abigail.

There was noise surrounding them as he pulled back to examine her. Abigail's eyes were wide and confused as Albus ran his hands over her face. Lily was there a moment later, bent down to do the same.

"You alright, sweetheart?" Lily asked, pushing her hair back. Abigail nodded numbly before the shock of what just happened struck her and she began to cry.

"It was an accident," Eric shouted.

Albus turned around and saw Eric cowing down as Lorcan pushed him backwards. Albus always thought of Lorcan as entirely unflappable. This was a side he was sure none of them had ever seen.

"Accident?!" he shouted and shoved him again. "That was my daughter! You could have killed her!"

"I didn't see—"

Eric didn't finish as Lorcan did his own spell, Eric disappeared. Albus stopped, then noticed a little toad right where Eric had stood a moment before.

"Can you see better down there?" Lorcan shouted, followed by a string of profanity.

"Lorcan, I… I think that's enough," Albus said. He transformed Eric back, who no longer had a defense.

"Get off my property," Lorcan growled and turned to go back inside.

Eric swallowed and looked over. Albus hadn't even noticed Emily had joined them.

"I'll let you know when I'm home," Emily said, her own voice tight.

Eric's eyes flicked between her and Albus. "Emily, let's—"

"I'll let you know when I'm home," she repeated.

Lorcan had turned at the door, glaring and watching that Eric left. Eric took one step and disapparated.

Albus turned back to the house, hurrying inside. Lorcan had just grabbed Abigail from Lily, still crying.

"I'm so sorry," Albus said.

"She's alright," Lily said. "Just a little surprised is all. Let me see your shoulder."

In the confusion and worry over Abigail, Albus hadn't even noticed the pain, but now that Lily mentioned it, his skin burned.

"I have some potion for that," Lily said. "Let's have you lay out for it."

Lily pulled Albus up the stairs into the guest room and instructed him to take off his shirt. He laid out and Lily had a bottle and some rags.

"I want Mum!" Abigail cried loudly from below.

"Oh for heaven's sake," Lily said.

"I'll do this," Emily offered. Albus looked over, watching as she entered the room, a grim expression.

"Thank you," Lily said, handing off the bottle and rushing down the stairs.

Albus laid his head on his hands crossed in front of him, gritting his teeth.

"Alright, first pour is the worst," Emily warned.

The liquid hit his shoulder and he yelled into the mattress, gripping the sheets. Emily waited and poured a second time. She touched around the wound, pulling the skin carefully. By the fourth pour, Albus could hardly feel anything.

"Why him?" Albus asked. "You could have anyone you want. Why him?"

"It's not your concern," Emily said. She used her wand to wet a rag, laying it across his shoulder. "We should probably put more of this on again in an hour."

Emily corked the bottle and Albus reached over for her wrist. "Why, Emily?"

Emily sighed and crouched beside the bed so that she was face to face with Albus. Her eyes were more blue than he remembered. "Time passed. And he was there when I needed someone."

"You deserve better," Albus said, still holding her wrist.

"Is that why you were dueling at your niece's birthday party," Emily asked, her face grim.

"After and no," Albus said. "He was being disrespectful about you."

Emily rolled her eyes and looked away. "I don't know what you're trying to accomplish—"

"You think I'm making this up?" Albus asked, pushing himself up a little. "He was talking about the time you and I spent together and—"

"Oh, so it was an ego thing, huh?"

"Emily, I'm trying to tell you. He called you a slut," Albus growled. Emily looked disoriented for just a moment before she composed herself again. "So I punched him. It's unacceptable. Why are you with someone like him?"

Emily shook her head, looking away from Albus. "In another hour, make sure Lily helps you," Emily said. She stood and Albus watched from his spot on the bed, craning his neck to see her walk out the door. He buried his head into his arms, wishing he had done more damage to Eric.

* * *

Emily apologized over and over again, though Lily said it was fine. Still, she knew if Lorcan had anything to say about it she would probably never be able to bring Eric with again. And Emily didn't blame Lorcan on that count.

She was still out of sorts from seeing Albus and from their fight. The rest of them were cleaning in the kitchen when she shouting started. Then the curses went flying. Then Abigail broke out running, wanting to save her uncle from what she saw as danger. It was for Abigail that Emily felt worst.

Emily arrived at home and Eric was waiting in the living room, ice on his cheek. "Why didn't you just put cream on that?" Emily asked.

"You rearranged your bathroom. I couldn't find it," Eric said.

Emily didn't bother to tell him that it was Albus who had done the rearranging. She set down her purse and went into the bathroom, finding the cream and walking back into the room with Eric. He pulled off the ice as she opened the container, scooping a little on her fingers and carefully applied it to the swelling.

"Thanks, baby," Eric said. He reached over and pulled Emily onto his lap as she continued to rub in the cream.

"Why did you have to go pick a fight?" Emily said.

"He's the one who hit me!" Eric snapped.

"You could have come inside," Emily argued. "Or at least had the decency to lower your wand when he put his away. Especially with Abigail running out there."

"I didn't see her!"

"That's not the point!" Emily snapped back. "You could have seriously hurt one of my best friend's children! You hurt Albus!"

"Oh, I see what this is about," Eric said. "Why do you care about that creep?"

"That _creep_ was a good friend to me," Emily said. She tried to stand, but Eric pulled her in by her waist.

"Sorry, baby, I'm sorry," Eric said. "I'll send a long apology to Lorcan and Lily tomorrow. I promise."

Emily let out a breath, the tension leaving her. Eric kissed Emily's bare shoulder, then her up her neck. "Albus said you called me a slut," Emily said. Eric stopped his kisses and pulled back to look in her eyes.

"And you believe him?" Eric asked. Emily shrugged. "He's just jealous, baby. Making up stories. I would never say anything like that."

Emily wanted to believe him and she knew the fact that she believed Albus faster than she did Eric spelled trouble.

Eric wrapped a hand in her hair and pulled her mouth down to his. She kissed him back, though she couldn't remember if the way he tugged at her neck to kiss deeper was new, or if it just annoyed her now in a way it hadn't before. Emily draped her hands over his shoulders, rubbing down his arms. Eric moved his hand on her far leg up, playing with the hem of her skirt.

Emily pulled back, using one hand to stop his. Eric looked into her eyes. "Come on, baby," Eric said. "We've been back together for seven weeks now."

It had happened so slowly, Emily wasn't even sure how it had happened. He was there for her as she mourned the loss of Arthur, not to mention the loss of Albus in her life. A couple weeks in, Eric took her out to dinner. Then he was kissing her and she didn't want to stop, and finally he told her how sorry he was and how much he needed her back in his life.

Emily still couldn't sleep with him. The thought of Grete Miller in his arms hadn't left her memory. Even the thought of making love to Eric made Emily feel filthy and used in a way having the casual fling with Albus never did. Time, she told herself, was the solution. Eric wasn't as on board with the idea as she was.

"Not yet," Emily said.

"When?" Eric asked.

"I don't know," Emily said. "How long were you dating Grete Miller behind my back?"

Eric's face drained of color and he pushed Emily up and off his lap, standing himself. "How long are you going to hold that over my head?" he demanded as he walked over to his shoes, shoving them on. "I've apologized. I've made it up to you."

Emily folded her arms across her chest. They had the argument every couple weeks. She waited as he came up to her, his face close to hers.

"I don't know how to make you understand," Eric said. He placed a hand on each side of her face. "If this last year has taught me anything, it's that I don't want anyone but you. It's in the past. All of it's in the past, Em. You can trust me."

As Eric kissed her again, Emily laid her hands against his chest, unsure if she believed him.


	12. Redemption

_**Redemption**_

Arthur knocked on the Prewitt's door. He paced back and forth on the porch, knocking a second time. Finally, the door opened and Mr. Prewitt stood in the doorway, tall and imposing and straight faced. There was a time the two had got on alright. That time was before Arthur got Molly pregnant.

"Molly's busy," Mr. Prewitt said.

"Please, I need to see her," Arthur said.

Mr. Prewitt had been the first line of defense, though he generally sent his wife to the door when she was there to say no. Arthur had been by every day and it was always the same. Never was it Molly who said anything. He kept leaving notes and sending owls, but still hadn't heard anything back.

"No," Mr. Prewitt replied, reaching to close the door. Arthur threw out his arm, stopping Mr. Prewitt.

"I'm sorry, but I can't accept that answer anymore," Arthur said, trying to stand as firmly as he could under the angry glare of his father-in-law.

"Get off my—"

"Dad," Fabian said. "Let him in. He's family."

Arthur looked hopefully beyond Mr. Prewitt. Fabian stood more confidently than Arthur as Mr. Prewitt's glare turned to him.

"Not _my_ family," Mr. Prewitt said.

"Get off it, Dad," Gideon joined in. Arthur couldn't see him, but it sounded like he was in the sitting room to the left. "He has every right to see Molly, if she's up for it."

Mr. Prewitt slammed the door, the heavy wood smacking Arthur's nose as he stepped back, holding his face. His head throbbed horribly, a shouting match continuing inside between the twins and their father. There was a loud thump and the door opened back up. Arthur felt around for his wand, expecting to see Mr. Prewitt, but relaxed when it was Gideon instead.

"Alright?" he asked.

"Yeah," Arthur tried to say, though it was mumbled, his nose swollen up.

"Yikes," Gideon said. "Come on in."

"But—"

"We took care of Dad," Fabian said from inside.

Arthur followed Gideon inside, wiping at his nose to find a decent amount of blood.

"Holy hippogriff!" Fabian declared. He was crouched over their dad, who was laid out, eyes closed.

"What did you do?" Arthur asked, fear pulsing through him. Immediately he knew this could come back to him. He would be blamed.

"It's just a slumber jinx," Gideon said. "Gives us a bit of time. Better fix you up before you see Molly, though."

"Frank showed me that spell at the last meeting," Fabian said, standing and going over to Arthur and pointing his wand at Arthur's nose. " _Episky_ ," he added.

Arthur's face felt immediately better, but he still went to the guest bathroom to clean up.

"There you go," Gideon said, ushering Arthur towards the stairs. "Let us know if Dad stirs."

Arthur stayed right behind Gideon as they got to Molly's old room. Gideon knocked and then opened it up. Arthur saw Molly, curled up with the peach baby blanket Arthur sent by her request the second day.

"Molly-mole," Gideon said. "Arthur's here."

Molly didn't move as Arthur moved into the room, sitting on the edge of the bed beside her, running his fingers through her hair. He leaned close to her and kissed her cheek. Molly's eyes filled with tears.

"Hi, Mollywobbles," Arthur whispered, tucking her red hair back. She didn't respond. "Molly?"

"She's gone," Molly whispered, weak sobs taking her over as she clutched to the blanket.

"Can you come home?" Arthur said. "I mean, our home? The Burrow? Just for a bit, if you want."

Molly cried as Arthur continued to rub her back, keeping his face close to hers.

"She's not always this bad," Gideon said from the doorway quietly. "Usually Mum can get her quilting or knitting or cooking… it seems to get her out of it a bit. But sometimes…"

Arthur waited, crossing his legs on the bed and reaching over to Molly, letting her cry it out until sudden she sat upright.

"I want to see the nursery," Molly said with a strange solidity compared to a moment before.

"You better get going before Dad wakes up and makes that difficult," Gideon suggested.

"Okay," Arthur agreed. "Okay, let's get you dressed."

Gideon closed the door and Arthur helped Molly into fresh clothes.

"What happened to Dad?" Molly asked, eyes widening.

"He was getting grumpy and needed a nap," Fabian said, sitting back in his armchair over Mr. Prewitt, a firewhiskey in hand. "Don't worry, Molly."

It was the only confirmation Molly needed as Arthur grabbed them both handfuls of floo, thanking Gideon and Fabian, saying he would bring her back when she was ready. Molly held tightly to the peach baby blanket as they stepped into the hearth and rushed back to the Burrow.

Molly walked with a quick stride through the house, drifting as though a ghost amidst the living. Arthur kept a hand on her elbow as they went upstairs. She opened the door. It was almost exactly as they had left it: the crib, a mobile of Quidditch players and stars, and a few stuffed animals.

Molly's attention was drawn to the addition, though. She walked around the new rocking chair, running her fingers along the curve of the seat back. "Where did you get this?" Molly asked.

"I made it," Arthur said. "I made it for you. From the wood of that old house we once fixed up. Remember?"

Molly sank into it. She ran her hands along the arms of the chair, the blanket falling softly into her lap. The wood was finished with a light stain. Molly traced the scrolled details on the arms. "Why?" Molly asked, turning to Arthur.

"You'll need it," Arthur said with an affirming nod. "With our next baby."

"Arthur," Molly said. Her face screwed up in tears again. Arthur knelt in front of her. He moved his hands to her hips.

"It's alright," Arthur said as Molly bent, her head resting on his shoulder.

"What if I can't?" Molly sobbed.

"What?" Arthur said. "Why wouldn't you?"

Arthur picked her face up, cupping her chin in his hand. Molly held onto his wrist like a lifeline.

"What if it was me?" Molly asked. "They don't know why it happened, Arthur. What if I can't… what if it happens again? My aunt Muriel never could have children. What if I'm like that?"

"Then we'll deal with it as it comes."

"But you want children. You've always said you wanted children."

Molly became progressively less comprehensible, Arthur pulling her face closer to his.

"We can adopt," Arthur said. "There are loads of children who need a good home, right? We'll adopt a hundred, if that's what you want. No matter what, you'll be a brilliant Mum, Molly. And short of that, I just want you."

"Really?" Molly asked.

Arthur nodded. "I hope we have children, but we can do this together. I just want to figure it out together."

Molly cried even harder, leaning forward in the rocking chair with her arms around Arthur as he whispered words of comfort to her. Arthur breathed her in, feeling more grounded and hopeful than he had since they left St. Mungo's

"Do you want to go home?" Arthur whispered.

"I am home," Molly said, tightening her grip.

* * *

Albus pulled out yet another large box from under Grandpa and Grandma's bed. His shoulder still ached, though the skin had healed just fine. Stretching his aching shoulder, he pickedup the top couple pictures. They were more copies of Grandma and Grandpa's wedding pictures.

Ginny reached in and picked them out. "We'll add them to that pile. If we sorted them now, I'm thinking all six of us could have a set," Ginny said. "Maybe even some of the grandkids."

Albus pulled through one item after the other until he got to a familiar looking box. At first, he wondered if it was the exact one he gave Emily for Christmas, then he realized this one didn't have the monogram. It was more simple, though still the same size. Albus pushed aside a couple other objects and pulled it up.

"What's that?" Harry asked.

"It's a memory box," Albus said. He opened it up and pulled out the first piece of rolled parchment from the first square. He unrolled it and read.

Ginny stood behind Albus, hanging on one shoulder. Harry looked over the other.

"Oh, it's about how they met," Ginny said with a sigh, putting a hand to her chest. "Harry, I didn't know he had these."

Albus pulled out the next. It was the story of Molly and Arthur's first date. The next was their first kiss. One after the other was filled with memories of their lives together. They pulled a few from the end. The last was a memory of Fred and George being born and Molly's twin brothers coming to visit them for the first time.

"Glad you took our advice to have twins," Fabian had said to Molly on that visit.

They jumped around, pulling out different rolls of parchment each. Soon they stopped reading them together, each with their own, reading the highlights to the others. Albus pulled one, reading across, his brow knitting.

"Mum, did you know Grandma was pregnant with a girl?" Albus asked.

"Yes," Ginny said with a laugh. "I always assumed as much. You're looking at her."

"No, it's just after they got married," Albus said. He turned the parchment towards her. "They were seeing if their first was a boy or girl, and it was a girl."

Ginny tilted her head, confused. "Maybe it was wrong."

Harry took a turn. "When was Bill born?"

"Er, seventy?" Ginny said. "Or seventy-one."

"Nope," Harry said. "Unless your dad dated it wrong."

"The spell dates it for you," Albus said taking it back and reading out loud. "' _After all the ups and downs, if finally seems real. A baby girl on her way. Molly and I have been arguing over her name. I want Mary and she says she's always liked the name Anastasia. Everyone was excited to hear the news and, of course, had opinions of their own._ '"

"Wow, you almost had a sister," Harry said.

Ginny started digging through the box. "Does it say what happened?" she asked.

"The box is for good memories," Albus said, shaking his head. "I wonder if they wrote anything in a diary somewhere."

"Maybe Bill or Charlie will know," Harry suggested.

Looking through the larger box, they tried to find more hints, but there was nothing. A peach, knit blanket Albus once say Grandpa Weasley holding and, tucked into one of the sides, an envelope with Albus's name on it were the last items they pulled out. Albus licked his lips and folded it in half, placing it in his back pocket to read when he was alone.

They worked for several more hours, all standing back against one wall and looking at the now-empty room. Harry and Albus both had an arm around Ginny as she teared up, a hand covering her lips. "This is it," she said.

"I remember the first time I saw this house," Harry said. "Fred, George, and Ron had just broke me out of the Dursley's and this place seemed like everything I thought a home should be." They paused in silence. "We'll come help you paint before the family gathering."

"Thanks," Albus replied.

This house had been the home base for all of the Weasleys for over half a century. Albus had a feeling the party the next week would have as many tears as smiles. Still, the building itself looked good enough to sell. Albus liked the idea of a new family coming in to fill this place with children running up and down stairs, playing in the garden, and running to the lake on a hot summer day. He hoped it was someday worn down by another large family who loved it. Another family who would stand in a room tearily as they handed it off.

Albus cooked dinner as Harry and Ginny reminisced about their own childhood memories at the Burrow. When the meal was finished and cleaned up, Albus left them to continue, going up to his bedroom and pulled the envelope out of his back pocket, falling back on his bed.

For a while, he just stared at his grandfather's writing on the outside—his name written in a shaky hand. Albus wondered why Grandpa Weasley hadn't told him to look for anything. With Albus's luck, it was a final request to not change a thing about the Burrow. If that were the case, maybe it was better that he hadn't found it until now.

Albus tore open the envelope and pulled out the paper. He held his breath as he turned it around, finding nothing but a large drawing of a weasel. Albus fell back, disappointed. He tossed the paper to the side, pulling his knees up and looking at the ceiling. He hated the tears that came to his eyes. It had been over three months. Albus didn't know why he was still so easily affected by the loss. He took long, even breaths to keep from crying outright. He pulled off his glasses, folding them and setting them on the nightstand. With a flick of his wand, he turned the lights off.

Albus was about to turn in when he noticed the paper beside him glowing. Carefully, he picked it up by the edges, words shimmering off the page.

 _Patronus Revivo_

He didn't know that spell, but Albus did know that Grandpa Weasley's patronus was a weasel. Albus touched the drawn figure with his wand, licking his lips. " _Patronus Revivo_ ," Albus said, his voice uneven.

The ink drew away from the paper and began to glow like the words. An orb of silver bounced around the room and Albus stood, watching it hit the corners and walls, pinging against the window before it hung, suspended in front of him. A moment later it took form again.

"Hi Albus," the weasel said, the voice distinctly of Arthur's. "I guess if you're seeing this, I've kicked the cauldron. I decided this was a better way to say what I wanted to, rather than upset you with last words before I was gone.

"I know the last months were hard for you. You have put up with a lot, my boy. I know it because your Grandmother used to tell me I was sometimes more of a handful than the twins, which was saying something."

The patronus chuckled just as Grandpa Weasley did at himself. The tears Albus staved off before came back, full force.

"I'm ready to go, my boy. I'm ready for Molly and Fred and others I miss dearly. My life has been full of love and joy and I couldn't ask for anything more. After everything you did for me, I want to do something for you, too. I want to tell you not to let love slip through your fingers. You have always been guarded, Albus. You have always kept anyone who could hurt you at arm's length and if you don't remember to let those walls down, you will lose Emily as well. And trust me when I say women like your Emily—and my Molly—they only come around once.

"I have seen a great deal of sorrow in this world." His grandfather's voice turned weepy. "I have felt pain and loss and fear… There were more times than I could count that I thought it was all over… I have seen war and hatred, but I have also seen love. I have experienced joy. And that love and joy and hope, it came from home. No job, no project… nothing in the world can substitute the love of a good woman and the family that stems from that.

"When you do find her—whether it's Emily or someone else—fight for her. Fight for her everyday and you will see a great deal of riches that come."

Albus wiped at his eyes and swallowed.

"I love you, my boy. I count you as one of my greatest joys. Don't spend time missing me when I'm gone. I will be happy. You be happy, too."

The patronus blinked at Albus twice, then disappeared. Albus sat back on his bed, picking up the paper again. Where the drawing had been were now three lines of text.

 _Let down your walls  
Find love  
Fight for it_

A single word came to Albus's mind. Paris.

* * *

Eric held Emily's hand as she stood on her toes, looking over the crowds for her sister. They had waited for twenty minutes before Taylor finally came into view. Emily smiled wide and broke away from Eric, running across the square in Paris and throwing herself around Taylor's neck. Taylor almost fell back, but laughed in Emily's ear.

"Damn, Em," Taylor said. "You'd think I'd just come home from war or something."

"I'm _so_ glad you were able to meet us here," Emily said, pulling back. Eric walked up to the two of them. "I wish you could stay the whole time."

"Yeah, me too," Taylor said. She gave Eric an obviously distasteful glare.

"Good to see you again, Taylor," Eric said, keeping his hands in his pockets.

The December after Emily and Eric began dating, he came to Aunt Josie's for the holiday and met both Taylor and Josephine. Taylor had been friendly enough then, but didn't say anything now. She raised an eyebrow and turned back to Emily.

"So what's the plan?" Taylor asked.

Emily wrapped her arm in Taylor's and they walked along, Eric trailing behind them. "Let's go back to the hotel and get your suitcase put away. We talked to the front desk and they even put you into the room next to ours. _Then_ we found this amazing little restaurant. And we can go to the top of the Eiffel Tower while you're here too. Tomorrow is the Louvre!"

Emily chattered the whole way back to the hotel. Taylor picked up her key and they made their way up the stairs. Emily gave Taylor another hug, saying they would be grab her in half an hour. She followed Eric back to their own room.

"Merlin's beard, she's suddenly become the ice queen," Eric said, closing the door.

"Don't talk about my sister like that."

"Well, are you going to talk to her then?" Eric asked. "I mean, what was with the stink eye?"

"You can't be that surprised that she's leery of you, considering," Emily said, laying back on the bed.

"Considering what?" Eric asked.

"Considering this is the first time she's seen you since we started dating again," Emily replied.

"You mean since you went around telling her about my mistake," Eric said, laying out next to Emily, a sour look on his face. "I don't know why you couldn't have tried to just work it out with me first."

Emily tilted her head. "You're joking right now, right?"

"No, I'm not," Eric said. "I hate this whole having to convince your family on top of everything else."

"You know, sometimes I think you don't really understand the severity of what you did," Emily snapped. "You didn't expect me to tell Taylor and Aunt Josie? Really?"

"I'm just saying, Taylor refused to even say hi," Eric said. "It would just be nice if you stuck up for me a little."

Emily looked down at her hands, biting her bottom lip so she didn't snap at him. Their trip to Paris had been pleasant so far. A nice outing as a couple. She agreed to share a room with him, though Eric had been disappointed if he thought that meant she was ready for more intimacy. He hadn't complained. At least not to Emily.

"You know, I was thinking I could go to a Quidditch game tomorrow while you go to the Louvre," Eric said.

Emily snapped her head towards him. "Why?"

"Well, the art stuff is more your thing anyway," Eric said. "And Versailles is playing Madrid, but just getting there is a decent trip. They don't allow apparition to the stadium, so I'll have to take the train. Plus I would need to buy tickets and the game doesn't go on until afternoon. That would give you and Taylor lots of time together. We both know she wouldn't feel cut up to lose me from the party."

On the last point Emily couldn't argue. For that alone, she nodded and agreed to have a girls' day.

"Thanks, baby, you're the best," Eric said. He leaned over, wrapping a hand around Emily's waist, pulling her into him for a kiss.

The night passed awkwardly between Taylor and Eric, Emily trying to balance the two of them. She talked to Taylor while holding Eric's hand for most of the night. When Eric tried kissing Emily under the Eiffel Tower, Taylor practically grabbed her arm and pulled her away.

"Come look over here," Taylor said, leading them to a new vantage point no different than the last, her arm around Emily's shoulders.

 _Mood effectively killed_ , Emily thought.

Taylor knocked on Emily and Eric's hotel room door the next morning.

"We'll see you tonight," Emily said quietly. Eric was still in his pajamas and in bed. He wouldn't need to leave for another hour or two.

"Alright, Em," he muttered. "See you."

"He's not coming with?" Taylor asked after Emily shut the door.

"Eric thought we might want to have some time just the two of us," Emily said.

"Yeah, I'm sure that's his motive," Taylor said.

Emily knew the implication and didn't reply. She couldn't refute her own doubts about his plans for the day. For months he had lied about where he was going and what he was doing. She still didn't know how often it was truth and how often it wasn't and Emily wasn't sure she wanted the breakdown. She was trying to learn to trust Eric again. When he was around, it was okay. When he wasn't, she always wondered.

They grabbed fresh bread on their way to the museum and found the spot where they bought tickets inside. The muggle ticket lines were easy to find. They wandered around until they found a second line. Their tip off was a witch in a neon blue hat, a crow perched on the brim.

"Enter by walking into the crowds of Napoleon's coronation by David, and take the door to your left," the ticket salesman said, a slight French accent. "All of the wizarding masterpieces will be found in the exhibits throughout those rooms."

"Thanks," Emily said, taking the map from him.

The two took their time looking at the artwork as they went.

"Some of this is really depressing," Taylor said, pointing to a large painting of men on a broken wooden raft. "I mean, damn! Who would want that hanging in their dining room."

A stuffy looking woman with white hair rolled her eyes as she passed by them, muttering quickly in another language.

"Maybe make your commentary a little more quietly," Emily suggested. She laughed regardless.

Taylor shrugged as they moved along. They saw the painting, watching half a dozen witches and wizards go in at once. A man in a uniform like the muggle guards stopped the next one. "One at a time. Space it out," he hissed. The witch he stopped looked unhappy.

"I guess we should keep looking around the muggle art first," Emily suggested.

Emily didn't mind. She had never thrown herself deeply into art, but her love of New York introduced her to the museums and Emily loved walking around, looking, contemplating. It was cathartic for Emily. Even with Taylor's occasional snarky remarks about nude women and overdramatic subjects.

They were in a large exhibition room and Taylor moved along more quickly than Emily, who was searching each image for hidden messages. There must be signs and signals of what was next for her. She could make things work with Eric. That was the sign she wanted to see. She had to be able to make it work.

Emily stood in front of a large oil painting of a woman. The figure had one hand on her cheek and the other held a skull in her lap as she looked left to a flame on the table beside her. The woman was young and had dark hair like hers. Emily wondered what her questions were. What were her problems? Were they worse than Emily's? Probably. At least now she would she would recognize the red flags if Eric did mess around with someone else. Grete was gone, too. Fiona had told Emily the rumors were that Grete had taken a new job in Colorado. Good riddance, as far as Emily was concerned.

Turning the ring Albus gave her on her right middle finger she thought of what he would think of that sentiment. He was kinder than she was. By far. He would probably point out that Eric had lied to Grete as well. Yes, Grete knew he technically was dating her, but Eric had made false promises and told Grete what she wanted to hear. In some ways, this made Grete as much a victim as Emily.

"I don't want to hear it, Albus," Emily said quietly to herself.

She was about to turn away from the painting when the flame seemed to come alive. Emily stopped, leaning in closer. From what she read, all moving portraits had been separated from the muggle oil paintings in the sixteenth century. Emily narrowed her eyes, realizing the flickering wasn't yellow like the painted flame behind it. A silver form jumped out at Emily and she stumbled backwards as it zoomed over her head.

It was a frog. A little silver frog. A patronus, Emily realized. It bounced along the tops of the heads of unaware muggles. She looked over where Taylor laid back on a bench in the center of the room. Emily chased after the patronus, wondering why someone would release it here in the middle of the museum. Emily had the strangest feeling it had waited for her. She was halfway down the corridor when it turned into a niche.

Worried she had lost it Emily picked up her pace with an awkward half run as she turned the corner. Emily would have run straight into a wall, but Albus grabbed her by the elbows, steadying her back onto her feet as she was trying to take in his presence.

Albus gave a tentative grin. "Hi," he said, his hands still on her arms.

"What are you doing here?" Emily asked.

"I thought it was a public place," Albus said. "Was I supposedly banned?"

Emily caught herself, stepping back. "No, I mean… I didn't know I'd run into you here."

"Well, I was looking for you."

"You were?"

Albus nodded, his brows knit seriously. "I knew you were in Paris… and you mentioned the Louvre. I didn't know if I'd find you by chance elsewhere."

"How did you know I was coming today?" Emily asked.

"I didn't," Albus said. "I've been wandering around the last two days. There's some great art here, by the way."

Emily shook her head, certain she was dreaming. "What do you mean you've been here two days?"

"I went ahead and sprung for the week long pass," Albus said. "I… I needed to talk to you."

"You could have sent me an owl? It's not like I moved here permanently."

"Yeah, but Paris… it's one of those places that people get caught up in the moment."

"I don't understand," Emily said.

"I never told you half of what I should have," Albus said, then swallowed. "And I need to before anything happens with Eric."

"Is that why you used a patronus to get me alone?" Emily asked.

"I'm in love with you—"

"You've said that before," Emily snapped, feeling suddenly jerked around and manipulated in a way she hadn't by Albus before.

"I'm in love with you," Albus repeated. "And I intend to tell you as much...to prove it... until you make it clear I am not what you want."

Emily's chest constricted. She looked away, down the hall, folding her arms across her body. Albus's fingers touched her cheek and bringing her attention back. He wasn't wearing glasses, she noticed, and his eyes were as clear and focused as she'd ever seen them.

"I always pushed others away when I thought they were about to ditch me," Albus said. "I did it with friends. I did it with women. I held grudges, because it was easier than wondering if they would say something I didn't want to hear."

"Couldn't you just hire a therapist to tell all this to?" Emily said, making no move to stop his hand, warming her cheek.

"I did it to you, too," Albus said, ignoring her quip. He didn't even roll his eyes. "After the funeral, in the workshop. I thought I knew what you were about to say. If it was over, I didn't want to hear it was over. I just wanted to walk away. But you deserve better than that."

Emily swallowed back tears threatening to surface. She looked down, hardly able to believe what she was hearing. "That was three months ago," Emily said.

"I know."

"I'm dating someone now," Emily said.

"I know."

"You can't just go back and forth like that, Albus," Emily said looking back at him.

"I know."

"And that's all you have now? You know?"

"You deserve better than Eric," Albus said. "Even if it's not me, fine. But, damn it, Emily, he's never going to be everything you deserve."

"Oh yeah? And what is it I deserve?" Emily asked.

"You deserve someone who is devoted to you. You deserve someone who listens and hears you. You deserve someone who, even if they can't pluck every star in the sky, tries every day," Albus said quietly. He still had one hand on Emily's cheek. She could have sworn they were alone, though people passed behind them. He moved his face closer to hers. "You deserve to be kissed passionately, knowing that the person you're kissing isn't doing the same with someone else. You deserve every good thing this bloody world has to offer."

A tear fell down the outside corner of Emily's eyes. Albus reached up his other hand to wipe it away.

"You deserve sunflowers," Albus said. "If I had you, there would always be sunflowers."

"Albus, those are beautiful ideas," Emily said.

"I'd give them to you in a heartbeat," Albus said.

"I'm dating someone," Emily repeated simply. The intensity in Albus's eyes didn't melt away. His goodness, that's what had grown on her. She hadn't realized all this time, but that's what imbued every moment of their time together. The reason she loved how he held her and the comfort she felt with him. The way he cooked with such attention and care—the same type of attention and care he gave in their tender moments at night. She never feared judgement or mistreatment with him. All of it pointed back to how good he was. And no matter what Eric had done in the past, she couldn't say yes now and be worthy of Albus. Emily knew she probably wasn't worthy of him anyway.

"Have you told him about your childhood?" Albus asked.

"No," Emily said.

"Why not?" Albus asked.

The look in his eyes told her he was hoping for self reflection. "I don't talk about it to anyone."

"You talked about it with me," Albus said.

"That was the heat of the moment," Emily said, shaking her head.

"Yeah, but you told me the reasons you felt that way after I admitted you were right," Albus said. "Why?"

"I trusted you," Emily said easily. The answer was so obvious.

"Then trust me now," Albus said. "If it's not me, that's alright. But you deserve better."

Albus pressed his lips against her forehead, lingering there. Emily almost broke with her resolve. Instead she closed her eyes, waiting to open them again when Albus pulled back.

"I love you," Albus said. He stepped around Emily and into the hallway, then stopped, turning back and pulling something from his back pocket, holding something out to Emily. "There's still a few days left on this pass. There's way too much here to see in one day. And you seemed pretty excited for it."

Emily took it and Albus gave her an easy smile before walking away.

"Emily?" Taylor asked. Emily turned, still unsure what to think. "Was that Albus Potter?"

"Yeah," Emily answered.

"What was he doing here?" Taylor asked.

"He had some sort of convention here in France," Emily said, shaking herself out of it. "He was passing through and saw me."

"Well why did you ditch me in there? I didn't even know you'd left," Taylor said.

"Sorry, I got sidetracked. Didn't know I'd left the room."

The two finally made it into the wizarding exhibitions, Emily distracted as they walked around. They took their time, then made it to a cafe for lunch after Taylor had been patient through Emily's slow, mindless viewing.

"Emily," Taylor said, then whistled. "Earth to Emily. You there?"

Emily looked up. The server was there, ready for her order. "I'm sorry," Emily said, looking back at the menu, ordering the first thing that looked decent. She apologized once more and sat back as the server walked away.

"What's the deal?" Taylor asked.

"Probably just time lag," Emily said. "Haven't quite gotten caught up here yet."

"Okay, when are you going to learn you can't lie to me," Taylor asked. "Come on, Em. Is this about Eric?"

"No," Emily said. "Well, sort of."

"Why the hell did you start dating him again?" Taylor demanded, leaning forward like she had been waiting since she arrived to ask just that. "You know what an ass hat he is, right?"

"He's not all bad," Emily said, but even she couldn't sell it.

"Why, Em?"

"Because I need to know people are redeemable," Emily said, looking at Taylor. "I need to know there's redemption."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Taylor asked.

"Look, I know what he did was wrong. I know it wasn't okay and I'm not letting him off the hook. But if someone's made mistakes it doesn't mean they aren't worthy to be loved, right?"

Taylor was definitively opinionated. Emily had never seen her without the next argument lined up and ready to shoot off her tongue. But now Taylor sat back in her chair. Surprised.

Emily picked up her glass, taking a drink just to have something to do.

"You know, when Xander first pursued me, I made sure he couldn't get too close," Taylor said. It was Emily's turn to be surprised. "I would let him take me out, but I wouldn't let him pay. We'd always go dutch and I wouldn't let anything be official."

"Why not?" Emily asked. Xander and Taylor would never get married. Their aunt finally accepted that a couple years before. The two shared a townhouse and they still wouldn't bother with the formalities, but Xander had been with Taylor long enough that Emily just described him as a brother-in-law to simplify.

"I didn't know how to be in a real relationship. And honestly it scared the shit out of me," Taylor said. "I mean, Em, what we'd been through… that comes with the biggest damn baggage they sell in a luggage store. And I didn't want to tell anyone."

Emily swallowed. This wasn't the conversation she wanted. Not with Taylor, especially.

"And I also didn't know if he'd want me if he knew everything," Taylor said.

"But it's not like you did any of that," Emily said. "You didn't ask for it. Then you saved everyone."

"Okay, first of all, I didn't _save everyone_ ," Taylor rolled her eyes. "And that's not what I meant by everything."

"What do you mean?"

Taylor shrugged. "I can't have kids," Taylor said. Emily sat up a little straighter. She had always assumed Taylor not getting gushy about babies or a future family was because she was a little stuck on the dragon trainer lifestyle. It didn't exactly jive with the white picket fence vision. "After we got back from Australia, I was having some health issues and that's what they found out. And I wasn't too cut up about that at first, but Xander talked about his nieces and nephews and made comments that made me think that's what he wanted. And I knew that wouldn't be with me. I didn't really want to adopt. Too much about me is screwed up to bring up a child who probably will have their own issues."

"I had no idea."

"Yeah, you didn't need to," Taylor said. "I mean, it's not really a big deal anymore. It just almost kept me from being with Xander. But I need to know what this redemption thing is really about?"

Emily played with the napkin in front of her and licked her lips. "Albus and I carried on this pseudo-relationship and I didn't realize I was leading him on," Emily said. "And I destroyed everything. Again. Before I realized he's what I wanted."

"What do you mean again?"

Emily's eyes flooded, though no tears fell over. "Come on," Emily said. "You know I was the one Grandma hated."

"That psycho bitch? You care if she hated you?"

"It's not so much that I care about her," Emily said. "I remember you'd get in trouble because of me. You were always standing between us until she forced you out of the way."

"Yeah, that was my choice, though."

"I always figured that's why you left without me," Emily said. Her bottom lip quivered as Taylor looked uncertain again.

"In Australia?" Taylor asked. Emily gave a small nod. "I wasn't going to put you at risk. Not for a moment. We were going into the middle of the desert. Look what happened to Harry. If they'd found me or you, do you think they would have kept us alive? If I died, I wanted you to at least have a chance at a future. Besides, we were näive. We thought we'd get out, contact the authorities, and we would have you out within a week."

Taylor's ease at explaining lifted a weight off of Emily, making it easier to breath as she wiped away escaping tears.

"Dad left because of me," Emily said. It was the last one. The last thing she needed forgiveness for. If he had never left, they wouldn't have ended up with their grandmother. If they hadn't ended up with their grandmother, they wouldn't have ended up in the compound. They would have lived normal lives. Motherless, yes, but they would have all had each other. Or maybe if she hadn't been there as a reminder of the reason their mother died, at least Taylor could have had that normal life with their dad.

"Dad left because he was a coward," Taylor said putting a hand over Emily's. There was a hint of bitter anger behind the words. "You were the best thing that happened at that time."

"But Mom—"

"You take two seconds to imagine what you would want if you were pregnant and knew it would be you or the baby. Would you _ever_ rather be the one to live."

Emily didn't have to consider this for even a minute, shaking her head.

"I'm sure Mom didn't want to die, but she would have been glad it was you that lived. You've never needed redemption, Em," Taylor said. "And if Eric finds his, it won't be with you."

The server came and Emily looked down, dabbing her eyes.

* * *

Emily folded her last shirt as the doorknob turned and Eric walked in.

"Hey, babe, how was the museum?" Eric asked, then froze. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to stay with Taylor in her room," Emily said.

"Why?"

"It's over," Emily said.

Eric walked closer, putting a hand on her suitcase to keep Emily from closing it. "Em, you can't be serious."

"I'm absolutely serious," Emily said, matching his gaze.

"What did Taylor say?" Eric snapped. "What the fuck did she say about me?"

"Nothing I didn't already know."

"Emily, baby," Eric said, taking Emily's face in his hands, changing tones so quickly he could have been an entirely different person. "Emily, things have been good. You don't want to throw it away."

"Where were you today?"

"What?"

"Where were you today?" Emily repeated, slower.

"I went to the Quidditch game in Versailles. I told you."

"I don't know if I believe you," Emily said.

Eric's face went stone cold as he narrowed his eyes. "I have the tickets," Eric said. "I can show you… I can—"

"No," Emily said, shaking her head. "I can't be in a relationship where I wonder. Not even for a second."

"Emily—"

"Goodbye, Eric," Emily said, pushing his hands away. She turned to the suitcase, closing the clasps. She picked up the handle, Eric talking at her, following her as Emily walked to the door, a growing smile on her face. Taylor waited with her head sticking out into the hallway.

"You okay?" Taylor asked Emily first.

"Great," Emily replied.

"Back off, bastard," Taylor said, letting Emily into the room and slamming the door in a livid Eric's face.

* * *

Albus caught Andreas as he flew off the rope swing over the land rather than the water.

"Woah!" Andreas laughed.

"Woah is right," Albus said. "You're getting too big for that. Next time I'll just let you break your arm."

Andreas laughed even harder at this as Trina and Cara attacked his legs, climbing up. They were out by the lake. All the kids were in swimming suits. George, Angelina, and several of Albus's adult cousins waded in the water with a dozen children. There were others back at the Burrow and Albus's jeans were getting drenched with his soaking nieces and nephews coming out of the water to grab him.

"Hey now," he teased, tickling Callie as she tried to jump up and wrap her arms around his waist. "I just came to announce lunch, all you heathens."

" _You're_ a heathen!" Trina giggled.

"Takes one to know one," Albus replied, picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder. The other adults gathered in the others, handing out towels and ushering them through the trees and back towards the Burrow. Albus kept Trina bouncing along as the others kept trying to grab onto him.

Albus had almost forgotten the house was going on the sale in a month. There had been one or two people who had heard of the property by word of mouth, coming to see it before it was listed. With everyone here, it seemed like the Burrow couldn't possibly belong to anyone else. Albus had half a mind to talk Lily and Lorcan into buying the place. Or outright covering the costs if they would move in. He knew Lorcan made three times as much with the private company in America doing the same thing as he could ever make with the ministry. They would live on a tight budget here with their large family. No, that wouldn't be best for Lily's family.

Still, Albus already knew he was going to be picky about who bought the house.

Albus pulled Trina down, setting her on the bench as she laughed uncontrollably. Andreas moved into the seat beside her. Harry picked up Harriet and Ginny walked over, bouncing Millie in her arms.

"There's someone here to see the house, Al, sweetheart," Ginny said.

"Did you tell them to come back later?" Albus asked. Tomorrow was the last big day of the family gathering. That night they were planning a bonfire. There were piles of firewood ready, not to mention the tents, hammocks, and lines of clothes all over the place.

"I sent them up to your room actually," Ginny said.

"What?" Albus asked.

"I knew you'd be back in a moment, and it was the only room there wouldn't be others running in and out," Ginny said.

"Mum," Albus said, exasperated. "My room's a mess."

"Stacks of folded clean clothes don't count as a mess, sweetheart," Ginny corrected as he rushed inside, fighting the wave of family exiting with platters and bowls of food.

"Unc Al!" Fritz said, Lily holding one hand as they passed.

"I'll be back, buddy," Albus said. He pulled out his wand and dried his jeans. Once he made it to the stairs, Albus took, them two at a time. He took a couple breaths on the landing before turning the doorknob. "Sorry about the mess I was just told—"

Albus stopped. Emily turned around from the window, where she had been looking down at the tables lined up in the yard.

She smiled. "I was just going to say," Emily said. "Clean laundry not put away? Total pig sty."

Albus closed the door slowly before turning back. "What are you doing here?"

"I heard you were selling the place," Emily said.

"Yeah," Albus said. "I don't need a house like this on my own."

"I was thinking of buying."

Albus laughed, but Emily didn't. She just kept gazing at him steadily, a smile on her lips. "What are you going to do with it?"

"Well, your dad told me about this part time charm teaching gig at Hogwarts. Interim apparently. Lower levels. And I thought maybe this would make a nice primary school," Emily said. "Teach a few days a week to start. You know, put all that research to use."

"Okay," Albus said and swallowed. It was too good to hope she was here to see him. Albus fought every instinct to turn and walk out, letting Lily handle with whatever purchasing deal Emily wanted to make. "I'll make sure you're top of the list, if that's what you want."

"Thanks," Emily said, still smiling. "There was something else too, though."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I didn't get to explain myself a few months ago. With what you overheard," Emily said.

"Okay."

Emily looked away, thinking. She took a deep breath.

"You are too smart for your own good. You are obnoxiously right about things. Like even stupid little things. Trivial things. You dress like you barely hit puberty." Albus found an old, familiar irritation rise as a scowl set in. "You are obsessive compulsive. You can't leave anything alone if it's not how you would do it. You are overly sensitive sometimes and never seem able to tell the difference between teasing and —"

"Do you have a point?" Albus finally snapped.

Emily's smile only grew. She moved forward, placing her hands on his chest. Albus didn't move, his eyes shifting between hers.

"My point," Emily said quietly. "Is that somehow, even with all that… because of all that… I love you, too."

Albus moved his hands slowly around Emily's waist. He had forgotten how right her shape fit under his fingers. "And Eric?"

"I broke it off for good. You were right," Emily said. "Obnoxiously."

Albus moved in, his lips on Emily's, and pulled her into him. His hands couldn't get enough of her, feeling every inch of her waist, her hips, her neck and her face as their lips barely parted for air.

Several pairs of feet pounded up the steps and were soon knocking over and over again on his door.

"Uncle Al!" Andreas said. "Grandma says it's time for lunch. You coming?"

Albus pulled back, his forehead against Emily's as she laughed, biting her bottom lip. She slipped her palms into the back pockets of his jeans.

"I'll be down in a minute," Albus said.

This didn't stop Andreas and whatever clan he'd gathered from knocking rhythmically and chanting his name.

"Your fan club awaits," Emily said.

Albus held her close, his forehead against hers. Emily closed her eyes, smiling.

"When do I get to list off all the annoying things about you?" he asked.

Emily opened her eyes and laughed. "Just shut up and kiss me."

Albus obliged.


	13. Ivy

_**Ivy**_

Arthur opened the bedroom door to see Fred and George jumping up and down on Fred's bed.

"Boys," he growled.

The twins froze, turning wide-eyed as he glared firmly. George ran over, flopping onto his own mattress.

"If I catch you out of bed again, I will jinx you stuck to your mattresses," Arthur threatened. Fred dropped, covering himself quickly with a blanket and closing his eyes too tightly to be believably asleep.

Ever since they upgraded from cribs to the toddler beds Arthur made six month before, getting Fred and George into bed was all but impossible. At least in the cribs there was some way to separate them. Arthur closed the door, shaking his head as he heard the two laugh almost immediately.

"I tried to tell them to go to bed, Dad," Percy said, his own head sticking outside of his darkened room. "They wouldn't listen to me."

"They probably never will, Perce," Arthur said, leaning over and kissing the top of Percy's head. "Off to bed with you, now."

Arthur waited until Percy had closed the door, then made his way down into his and Molly's room. She sat in her rocking chair, fifteen-month-old Ron lying asleep in her arms against a growing belly. It would probably only be another month or two before she would be too rounded out to accommodate even his lengthy, skinny body. Molly hummed as Arthur went to the bed, taking off his glasses and wiping at his eyes, falling into the pillow.

"I have to go in early tomorrow," Arthur said. "At least I'll get a little overtime. You can get Bill some new clothes. I swear, I can see his calves in his jeans now. You didn't give him a growth potion, did you?"

Molly didn't reply, smiling down at Ron, pushing his hair from his face with a smile.

"You alright, Molly dear?" Arthur asked, wondering if the twins had finally driven her to insanity.

When Arthur got home that day there was flour floating all over the lowest floor of the house. Molly had taken all the children into the garden for the rest of the afternoon. When Arthur got home Molly insisted would not go back inside until there wasn't a dust of flour in the air. And so Arthur got to work.

"Just wonderful," Molly said, her eyes still on Ron.

"Did she kick a lot today?" Arthur asked, pushing himself up on one elbow. The kicking was Molly's favorite part of pregnancy. Arthur had a feeling the signs of life brought her peace of mind. It did for him.

"Some. But I was thinking…" Molly looked up at Arthur. "Do you remember when we were at Hogwarts and first talked about children?"

"Yeah, we were clueless."

Molly laughed. "Remember when we said we wanted three? Just like our families?"

"Just shows you how daft we've grown," Arthur said.

"No, Arthur," Molly said. "If Anastasia had been born, we wouldn't have all of this."

"No, we would have stopped at Charlie and saved ourselves the two bouncing bludgers," Arthur agreed with a grin.

Molly looked back down at Ron. "You know, when I was upset in the garden today, after the mess, Ron walked up to me and kissed my cheek and just… cuddled. I like my Ron cuddles."

Arthur smiled, looking down at their last son. He stood with a groan, walking around the chair and leaned down, a hand on either side of Molly's stomach. He kissed the top of her head. "They're all wonderful," Arthur agreed. "Even when I want to strangle them."

"It's just nice to know that sometimes something as terrible as losing our first baby could bring about the things that should have been," Molly said, her eyes watering. "You know?"

Arthur lifted a hand to Ron's back, rubbing back and forth as Ron adjusted himself, tucking himself further into Molly. "I do," Arthur said.

* * *

"Albus! Where did you put Arthur's teddy?" Emily asked, triple checking the bags.

"I didn't put it anywhere," Albus said, walking into the kitchen, their two year old son hanging from one arm, their suitcase in the other.

"Where did it go then?" Emily demanded, digging through the bags.

Albus opened the refrigerator and pulled out the milk carton, then stopped.

"Teddy!" Arthur shouted, dropping to the ground and standing on his toes to reach for it.

Albus opened a sippy cup and poured in the milk. "Was teddy in time out, sweetheart?"

Emily sighed, rubbing her forehead. "Let's go with that story."

Emily was sure she lost her brain more than most women when she was pregnant. And this time she was only four months along. It seemed every hour there was something new she lost or couldn't figure out. Albus was always entertained. When Arthur was two weeks past his due date and Albus laughed heartily as Emily spent an hour searching for a pen that was tucked behind her ear, Emily jinxed him well enough that he contained his amusement now.

"I think that's everything," Emily said. "I think."

"Lily will have anything we might forget," Albus said.

"Did you make the potion?" Emily asked.

"I have a whole vat, after last time," Albus replied, giving Emily an exasperated look.

When they found out they were pregnant the first time, Albus was more than a little excited to find out if it was a boy or a girl. Emily was already certain she knew.

"It's a girl," Emily told Albus. "You can stop fretting, it's a girl. And her name's Ivy."

"You don't know that it's a girl," Albus argued.

"Yes I do."

"How?" Albus asked.

This argument happened nearly a dozen times before Emily finally explained. She told him about Callie and the things Callie said so long before. Callie was five at the time and Albus looked skeptically at Emily.

"I'm telling you, she knew," Emily said.

"She was wrong about at least one thing," Albus said. "I don't know if I like the name Ivy."

"Well, I do," Emily said, irritated by his reluctance to believe her. "And it's happening, so just get on board."

"Emily, you couldn't possibly know that… Callie couldn't possibly—"

"It's a girl," Emily cut him off.

"Alright, if it's a girl then we'll name her Ivy," Albus said. "But if it's a boy, I want to name him Arthur."

"Well, that was a given," Emily said, leaning over and kissing Albus. "But it's not a boy."

When she was far enough along, Albus made the potion to find out. They sat across from one another at the kitchen table at the Burrow, Albus anxious and Emily calm, still insisting she knew. She pricked her finger, letting a couple drops of blood fall into container. A moment later the liquid turned green.

Albus's smile widened more and more. "It's a boy, Em," he said. "We're having a boy."

"No," Emily said. "No, we need to do it again."

Albus's smile faded, confused. "I only made one batch."

"You must have done it wrong. Make it again," Emily said.

"Emily—"

"No, it's a girl," Emily said.

Albus made a second batch and then a third, refusing for the fourth, though Emily continued to insist the potion was wrong. Albus shrugged, saying he was happy regardless. "I just want him to be happy and healthy," Albus said.

"Her," Emily corrected.

They dropped the issue until that weekend when the rest of the Potter family came for a few days. Albus told them about the potion, and though everyone was excited Emily made a point of correcting his telling them they were having a boy.

"I guess the potion doesn't work all the time," Ginny allowed. "It didn't work at all for Imogen."

"Yeah, but it didn't work for Harper either when we sent her some," James said. "It's probably something to do with their Gypsy gifts."

"Emily just wants a girl," Albus said.

"That is not true," Emily said. "I'm happy with either, but I _know_ it's a girl."

"How?" Harry asked. Everyone in the room listened as Emily explained.

"Callie?" Lily asked. "You know that last week she told me this whole story about a castle in the sky filled with nargles who guard the doorways? She's got imagination for miles. Plus her Grandma Luna's knack for the fantastical."

"You'll all see," Emily said.

"Callie," Lorcan called.

All the children were playing in the living room, stacking blocks and knocking them down. Callie looked up and shuffled towards the adults as her father waved her over.

"Callie, love, do you remember Ivy?" Lily asked.

Emily felt needled by the lot of them, folding her arms as they all chuckled. Callie looked around, uncertain why everyone was looking and smiling at her.

"Yes," Callie said. "Ivy's my cousin."

No one believed Emily still. They all chortled at Callie's assertion.

"Callie," Emily said. "Are you excited to see Ivy when she comes?"

Emily held her growing belly and Callie walked over to her, putting her own hands over Emily's. "No Aunt Emmy," Callie said as though Emily was saying something silly. "That's not Ivy. That's Arthur!"

Most of them burst out laughing uncontrollably, but Emily looked over to Albus, who stared wide-eyed at Callie who leaned over to kiss Emily's stomach. So maybe it was a boy, Emily thought, but her larger point was right. Besides the fact that the children were all in the other room during their discussion of gender, they hadn't told anyone about their choice of name. Albus kept giving side glances to Callie the rest of that night.

This time around, Lily was pregnant again, too. Unexpected, this time, so Lorcan and Lily claimed. Almost believable with the space between Millie and their sixth.

Emily could have technically found out the gender a couple weeks before, but they decided it would be more fun to figure it out together. Albus made more than enough for both women and they were taking time for a week-long vacation, part of which would be spent with Aunt Josie. Emily tried to take one of the bags, but Albus insisted he had all of them as Emily picked up Arthur with his teddy.

"Emily," Albus said. "Em."

She stopped right in front of the open door. Albus stepped forward, weighed down with bags and caught Emily's lips in his, lining her jaw with kisses and down her neck. Emily smiled, biting her bottom lip.

"I love you," he said.

Emily kissed him one more, her hand around his neck. "I love you, too," she said.

They made it into the garden and pulled out the portkey.

"Hold tight, Arthur," Albus instructed. The toddler in Emily's hands kept holding, then letting go. Emily finally placed her hand over Arthur's on the old newspaper, pinning his skin to the surface of the portkey. He whined, but Albus made quick work of activating it and they were off.

Even though Lily was almost a month behind Emily in her pregnancy, she was quite a bit rounder. Lily was several inches shorter than Emily too, of course, and a very small frame, which may have all contributed. Hugging was certainly a strategic effort between the two now. Lorcan helped unload Albus's arms as the girls circled them, wanting to take Arthur with them as much as they used to want hugs from Albus and Emily.

Callie came up to Emily, hugging her middle. She kissed Emily's stomach. "Hello there—"

Emily covered Callie's mouth. "Shhh," Emily said. "I want to be surprised, hon," she added, giving Callie a swift kiss on the cheek and letting her go. Callie giggled and put up a secretive finger up to her lips and Emily winked. Callie took Emily's hand and they all made their way inside, breakfast on the table. They caught up and Lorcan made extra bacon, which Emily couldn't get enough of.

"Sorry," Emily said, still piling her plate. "It just tastes so good."

"It's better than when Lily wants chocolate moose at one in the morning," Lorcan said.

"We'll be cooking a lot this week, I think," Albus said, nudging Emily. He reached out to take a slice of the bacon and Emily smacked his hand. He only laughed, wiping his fingers on a napkin.

They finished and Lily directed Abby and the twins to cleaning up the dishes before they laid out two clear glasses and Albus poured equal portions of the potion in each.

"Ready?" Lily asked Lorcan. He nodded as Albus wrapped a hand around Emily's thigh, Arthur sitting on his lap. The whole group of girls had circled around, leaning against the table excitedly.

Lily and Emily each pricked their fingers, coordinating the dropping of the blood the best they could. Collective squeals echoed in the small kitchen as both glasses of potion turned yellow. Emily smiled ear-to-ear. Albus kissed her cheek, leaning his head against hers.

"It's Ivy!" Callie shouted louder than the others. "I knew it was Ivy!"

Lily put an arm around Callie's waist and pulled her closer. "Then what about your baby sister?" Lily asked. "Hm?"

Callie scoffed as though this was obvious. "Janae, Mum," Callie said. Cara distracted her, spinning one of the glasses of yellow liquid as Lily turned to Lorcan.

"Did you talk to them about that?" she asked him. Lorcan shrugged, shaking his head. "She must have overheard, right?"

Emily smirked, looking at Albus who smiled back at her.

"Ivy," he said.

Emily nodded. "Ivy."

* * *

 **A/N:** And that's all folks! I know this one was much shorter, but I really wanted to do a kind of epilogue chapter. Thank you for all the reviews and I'm going to ask for just one more here! Especially if you haven't yet, I would love to hear from you.


	14. Preview: Foresight

**A/N:  
** I usually only give a portion of chapter 1 of the next in the series, but you get the whole one here! The first chapter is officially up under the story FORESIGHT. If you like, review and go follow! I'd love to see lots of people over there.

 ** _Foresight: Diagon Alley_**

 _Tick. Tick. Tick._

The second hand on the golden clock in the store window moved steadily along, hitting five, ten, thirty, and back to zero as the minute hand shifted with it.

"Callie," Lily called.

Callie narrowed her eyes, still looking at it. In her mind's eye she could see a tall, blonde man, with a scar under his right eye, walk into the shop and look at it. He would ask a lot of questions. Pointless question. He was trying so hard to sound smart enough to get a deal. A woman appeared next, running a finger along the top, tracing the curl of the leaf shape around the circular face. She sighed, looking at the price tag. Another man, this one middle aged and asking for the most expensive antique in the shop. A gift for his wife. What he wasn't telling the shopkeeper was that it was to make up for cheating on her.

"Callie, love," Lily said again. "We need to go."

Callie couldn't see which would happen. It could be all of them, in an order that left the clock unpurchased, or it might be bought up by whichever came in first. Some of these impressions were clearer than others. Like when she first saw her cousin Ivy in Aunt Emmy's arms. Or when Callie saw her older sister Abigail was kissing Malus Malfoy when Callie first arrived at Hogwarts. When she told Abby, a look of disgust came over her older sister and Abby insisted that would _never_ happen. Two years later and Abby and Malus were more than inseparable. They had been sending owls all summer and their dad had been probing with lots of questions.

"Callie, are you listening to your mum?" Lorcan asked.

"Yes," Callie said, still looking at the clock. It was when the future wasn't clear—like the number of people that might buy the clock that day, or might not—that intrigued Callie. The possibilities.

A little hand grasped onto hers and Callie finally looked away and down to the wide eyes and smile of her six year old cousin Ivy. Callie smiled back. "We're going to Uncle George's shop next," Ivy said.

It had become a Potter Family tradition for everyone to meet up for school shopping at Diagon Alley and then to Grandma and Grandpa Potter's house for dinner afterward. Uncle Al, Aunt Emmy, and their two children joined them, even though their oldest, Arthur, was still three years away from going to school himself.

Of course Callie had seen Ivy almost every day the week they had been in England, staying with Grandma and Grandpa Scamander down the road from the Burrow where Ivy lived. Sleepovers with Aunt Emmy were Callie's favorite, though Callie and her sisters had to take turns. She had six of them. Abigail was fifteen, then there Callie's twin sister Cara, Harriet was starting Hogwarts this year, then Millie, Janae, and Beatrix, who would all stay behind.

"Alright," Lily said with a sigh. "I'm taking Harriet to get her new robes. And her cauldron, too. I'll take Bea with me if you have Janae."

Lorcan threw the toddler up and onto his shoulders. "Flourish and Blotts for us, then."

"Dad, I wanted to go to the Quidditch supply store," Abby said.

Possibilities. In one, they argued that she needed to help her dad get books, in the other Malus was pulling her hand to a secluded spot in the shop.

"I need some gloves," Cara said. "Gryffindor will have an opening for a chaser this year."

"We can always go after the bookshop."

"But, Dad—"

"I needed to get some new potions ingredients," Callie said. The moment she started speaking, the second possibility became more opaque. It was a beautiful melting of colors perfect lines and forms. "I can get Harriet's cauldron."

Her mum's whole body physically relaxed at the suggestion. "That would be great. Alright, Callie, Cara, and Abigail will go to the cauldron shop and then we will meet you at the Quidditch store. Lorcan, give them some money for the school supplies."

"I want to go with!" Ivy declared.

Uncle Albus looked unsure.

"Only if you listen to everything Abby tells you," Aunt Emmy said before he could protest.

Ivy's response was to run and jump on Callie's back as Lorcan put the money into Cara's hand. There was more discussion, but their group made their way through the crowded streets of the alley, passing the sweet's shop and Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. Ivy protested as they went by.

"We'll come back, Ivy," Abby promised as she hurried them along. They were in view of Quidditch Quality Supply when, through the crowds, Callie saw Malus, standing against the stone facade. "Malus!" Abby shouted and ran forward.

He grinned at her and stood up, wrapping his arms around her waist when she ran into him.

"Gross," Cara muttered. Ivy giggled and Callie smiled. "Let's get the cauldron first."

Ivy hopped down and they went to the shop next door. Callie looked back, her older sister's lips attached firmly to Malus's.

"I wonder if Isabella is with her brother," Callie mused as they walked into the shop, filled with anxious eleven year olds and their parents. Very few of them had siblings. Callie thought that must be very disappointing, to have only one or two. She always felt bad for her cousins on that count.

"Probably," Cara said, getting at the back of the queue. "I don't know why you like spending time with her anyway, she's always so grumpy."

"She's nice when you get to know her," Callie said. Nice being relative, of course. Callie knew that Isabella was generally surly and she did _not_ like nicknames. Callie called her Izzy once and was hit with a finger twitch jinx that lasted three days. And Callie was her friend. Probably her only one. But then Isabella was one of Callie's only friends as well.

Although Abigail was in Ravenclaw with Callie, she was also two years ahead and mostly preoccupied with her boyfriend. Cara and Callie got along fine at home, but at school Cara was far more popular and spent most of her time surrounded by her fellow Gryffindors. She was probably going to get onto the Gryffindor team and be around even less from now on.

Then there were the other Ravenclaws in her year. They tolerated Callie for the most part, but they never really liked having her around. After the third week her first year, when she told them there would be a pop quiz that day in Transfiguration, they all laughed and rolled their eyes. When Professor Anders handed out sheets and told everyone to pull out a quill, several of her classmates glared at her, asking how she had found out, assuming it was her Grandpa Potter that tipped her off. After that, they all thought the professors played favorites with Callie. Callie couldn't convince them that she had seen it the night before in her mind. Probably right after Professor Anders decided it would be given.

"What's that?" Ivy asked, pointing to a large jar with little black orbs inside.

"Fire Newt eyes," Callie told her.

"Wow," Ivy replied, pressing her nose against the glass of the counter. "I can't _wait_ to go to school."

"I wonder what house Harriet will end up in," Cara said, looking down at the checklist in her hand.

"Gryffindor, with you," Callie said, tilting her head and looking at a jar of powder. The clerk would drop it later that afternoon. She wondered if she should buy some just so it wouldn't all go to waste.

"Why did you tell me?" Cara snapped, scowling at Callie.

"You asked," Callie said.

"I was just wondering," Cara said. "That didn't mean I wanted you to tell me."

Callie shrugged. "Sorry."

Ivy seemed entirely unperturbed by the news. "What about me, Callie?" she asked. "Which house will I be in?"

Callie narrowed her eyes. "I can't tell yet," she said. No possibilities even. Maybe it was too far away, or too many other things that would happen that could change the answer. Or maybe Ivy wouldn't even go to Hogwarts. Uncle Al and Aunt Emmy talked like they would, but Aunt Emmy had family in the states who could get Arthur and Ivy into the best schools over there as well. Maybe it wasn't so cut and dry.

"I want to know," Ivy said, pouting. She played with the braid over her shoulder.

"I'll tell you if I find out," Callie promised.

"Maybe she won't want to know by then," Cara said.

The conversation ended as they got to the front of the line. The middle aged man with a bushy grey mustache got a standard cauldron, a kit, and several supplies Cara asked for.

"Can I get some of that powder?" Callie asked.

"We don't have money for that," Cara said under her breath.

"I have some pocket money," Callie said, pulling out a few sickles and buying a decent sized leather satchel of the Argentine flash powder.

"Careful with that. It's volatile in some potions," the man warned.

"Thank you," Callie said with a smile, placing the bag into the cauldron with the rest of the supplies.

* * *

Malus pulled Abigail into the shop and back towards the gloves that lined the far wall. It was easily the least occupied space. They sunk onto a bench and kissed, Malus pulling Abby in by her waist as her hands wrapped around his neck.

"I missed you," Malus said.

"I missed you, too," Abby replied, her smile large and white. Her honey brown curls surrounded her face, the freckles across her nose noticeable with the summer of sunlight kissing her skin.

"You should spend next summer with my family," Malus said. "You live too far away."

"My dad would have a heart attack," Abby said with a giggle.

Malus just leaned in and kissed her again.

They began dating halfway through fourth year, though he'd liked her since the start of third. Slytherin and Ravenclaw had Herbology and double potions together. He took advantage in their fourth year when Abigail's potions partner was ill for a month, stuck up in the hospital wing. He moved next to her, sharing a table and helping her. Towards the end of the month was a Hogsmeade trip and Malus asked her to go with him. She made him wait three days for an answer, placing a charm on his cauldron so that when he added the last ingredient, a large puff of smoke floated up. Malus was worried he'd fail the assignment at first, until the smoke shaped into handwriting like Abby's, forming the word: yes. Abigail grinned at him and Malus was sure hadn't stopped smiling since.

"I'm glad we ended up coming on the same day," Malus said. "Dad almost made us wait until next week. Since he doesn't get paid until Friday."

"Abby," Cara called from the entrance of the store.

Abigail peeked over the shelves behind them. "Over here," Abby said, waving.

Malus ran a hand through his hair. Kissing would be done for a bit apparently. Still, he shopped around with them, holding Abby's hand as Cara talked to her about which gloves to get, then looking at the shoes. "Grandma said she's going to get me a new broom," Cara said. "Trina, too," she added.

Malus thought they were lucky that they could get new brooms just like that. He supposed it was a benefit to having a mother and grandmother who were well known former Quidditch players for the league. Especially since their grandmother wrote reviews for the companies. Malus figured they got loads of free stuff. He rode his dad's old Nimbus F20. Better than the comet Isabella rode, but it wasn't nearly as great as the Jupiter 5 in the window. Cara went up front to buy the couple things in her hands as Malus listed off the specs of the Jupiter 5 to Abigail.

"Good taste there, Mal," someone said behind them.

Malus turned and saw the man there. Blonde hair, though his goatee had lost all color. He held a cane and was in smart, deep purple dress robes. No one outside of the ministry or school wore dress robes around anymore. Not unless they were old fashioned. But then Malus's grandfather was certainly that.

"Hi," Malus said. His grandfather smiled pleasantly. Malus hadn't seen him for over five years now. Not since the Christmas when his dad and Grandad Malfoy had a huge row and Dad told Draco where to shove his money and never talk to them again.

"Hi Mal," Draco said. "How have you been?"

"Er, good," he said, looking around awkwardly. He knew he used to love his grandfather, but it had been so long that Mal wasn't sure what to think or how to feel anymore.

"And who is this lovely young woman?" Draco asked.

"Er, this is Abby," Malus said. "Abby Scamander. Abby, this is my grandad."

"Good to meet you, Mr. Malfoy," Abby said. Malus wished he could be as friendly as that to anyone. Abby was good at being friendly right off the bat.

"My pleasure," Grandad said, curtly nodding, then turning back to Malus. "You like the Jupiter brand? You play for Slytherin?"

Malus wondered how he knew he was in Slytherin. Then again, the Malfoys had been in Slytherin for decades, if not centuries. Maybe he was just assuming. "Er, yeah," Malus said, scratching the back of his head.

"You know, I haven't really gotten to give you any holiday gifts for a while," Draco said. "I could buy it for you."

"No you can't."

Malus turned to his right, his father walking up to their group. Abby seemed to understand this wasn't a good thing, tucking herself behind Malus's shoulder, though she still held his hand.

"Scorpius," Draco said, smiling wide. Malus's father didn't return it.

"What are you doing here?"

"I don't believe I've been banned from Diagon Alley," Draco replied easily. Scorpius stood in front of Malus.

The two older men had always shared so much of their looks. Looks that hadn't passed down to Malus and his sister Isabella. They both inherited the pale skin, but Malus had the same brown hair as his mother and Isabella had curly black hair and seemed endless and wild. She usually pulled it back in a ponytail to keep it out of her face. He wasn't sure where that had come from, or her nearly black eyes. Their mother's had been a warm, deep blue. Neither of them had those. Those were all hers and Malus missed them as much as he missed her. As much as he missed his grandmother, as well.

"You're welcome in Diagon Alley, just stay away from my children," Scorpius demanded.

"Son—"

"Don't call me son," Scorpius snapped, his voice lowering. "And don't go offering anything to Malus either."

"There's no reason for you to live like paupers—"

"You have a skewed view of what paupers live like," Scorpius said.

Malus wanted to support his father on this. He felt guilty liking the idea of his grandfather buying the broom behind him in the window. He imagined what it would be like to show up on the team, ready to play keeper with a top of the line broom, instead of one that he needed to service every time he used it. But he swallowed and didn't say anything. He looked away as his grandad tried to look around Scorpius at him.

"You can't keep them away forever," Draco said. "They're my family, too."

"Were," Scorpius said. "Now you're just a sad, lonely man with your piles of galleons."

Draco's eyes flashed and he pulled himself up to full stature, sneering and walking away.

"Dad?" Malus asked.

"We need to get going," he snapped, turning around. He stopped, noticing Abigail at Malus's shoulder for the first time. "I suppose you're the reason there's no spare paper in our house anymore."

Malus smiled, looking over to Abigail as she bit her bottom lip and shrugged uncertainly.

Scorpius took exhaled. "Sorry you were here for that," he said. "It is good to meet you."

"Y-you too, sir," Abigail said.

"Mal, you have five minute. Isabella and I will be waiting on the corner."

"Okay," Malus said and his dad walked away.

"I should find my sisters and take them back to Florish and Blotts anyway. I guess I'll see you on the train?" Abigail asked.

"Yeah," Malus said. He wondered what she thought of him and his family after that awful display. "Yeah, I'll see you then."

Malus leaned over and kissed Abigail's cheek. She relaxed a moment and smiled, a little less easy than before. He let go of her hand and tucked both of his into his jean pockets, clearing his throat as he met up with his dad and sister.

Isabella held a ice cream cone in one hand, licking as it melted. The pink ice cream looked out of place in her hands. "Did you find your girlfriend?" she asked with a smirk.

"What do you think?" Malus muttered. Their dad was preoccupied checking over both of their lists.

Isabella's smirk grew and she licked her ice cream again.

"Callie says hi, by the way," Malus said.

"I heard Grandad did too," she added.

"I don't want to hear another word about him," their dad said, crossing off another item on the list. "Alright, Isabella wanted to get a cat this year, so let's go to the Emporium, then we can go home."

* * *

Everyone was in their large group outside the bookshop. Callie took a bag from her dad and Ivy moved over to Uncle Al, who picked her up into his arms. She leaned her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

"Harriet's worried," Cara whispered.

"You didn't have to read her to know that did you?" Callie asked back quietly. Cara only ever told Callie about her own gift. She didn't want the others to know. Callie wasn't sure why. Her gift was even more reliable than Callie's. She could read what people felt—not just happy or sad, but more complexity than that.

"More worried than she looks," Cara said. "She thinks she'll end up in Hufflepuff and she wants to be in one of our houses."

"I'll tell her later."

"Don't," Cara said.

"Why not?" Callie asked.

"Because you don't have to tell people things just because you see them," Cara snapped.

"Girls, what are you fighting about?" their mother asked.

"Nothing," the twins said in unison.

Callie took the bag of powder out of the cauldron before turning it over, and they all made their way to the Leaky Cauldron.

"Rupert," Lorcan said, the mass of children and adults stopping. "Rupert Belvedere!"

"Why Lorcan Scamander," the man said. Callie blinked, noticing the spot on the top of his head where hair and already disappeared. The rest was still jet black, unlike Grandpa Potter's who had mostly grey hair, though old pictures showed his just as dark as Mr. Belvedere's. "Are these all yours?"

"Just these ones here," Lorcan said, hovering his hand over the general area where his girls were. "My oldest, Abby, the twins, Cara and Callie, Harriet, Millie, Janae, and Beatrix."

"What are you up to these days?" Mr. Belvedere asked.

The two started a long exchange that didn't make sense to Callie, though she grabbed one of her father's hands with hers. Lily said she was taking the others and would meet them at Grandma and Grandpa's. Callie waited behind until it was just the three of them.

She was intrigued by Belvedere. He had so many possibilities surrounding him. Just him. That was strange. Usually possibilities had to do with other people. Decisions outside of the individual. Callie only realized that the year before when she stopped to think about it. Like the clock—what would happen depended on who got their first and what they decided. But this… he could go anywhere. Be anything.

"How do the Yanks treat you?" Belvedere asked.

"Well, their own government doesn't pay for the research the ministry does here, so I work for a private company. A little different that way."

"Sure, sure," Belvedere said. He leaned forward, stroking his chin. Callie couldn't tell if he was really intrigued or just being polite. If Cara was here, Callie could ask. "And you still working with Gypsies?"

"No," Lorcan said. "I'm still parsing through information on what to share."

"You have a sister-in-law who's one though, right?" Belvedere asked.

"And some nephews and a niece," Lorcan confirmed. "Though they live like wizards, mostly. Visit the clans in the summers, I believe."

"Well, if they're ever interested in working with the Department—"

"They wouldn't be," Callie said matter-of-factly. Her father squeezed her hand. She had seen it the moment Belvedere asked. He stood in Uncle James and Aunt Imogen's living room, offering money for some of their time. "Aunt Imogen would say no."

Belvedere leaned against his knees with a grin so he was eye level with Callie. "Did they talk to you about it?"

"No," Callie said. "I saw it."

"Saw it?"

"I saw them say no."

Lorcan put both hands on her shoulders. "Callie's got this mix of intuition and imagination," Lorcan said with a bit of a chuckle. "Says things like that sometimes."

"A seer?"

"No, it's not prophesy," Lorcan said.

Belvedere looked into Callie's eyes, trying to figure something out, but all she saw were possibilities in a blur once more. He smiled and stood up. "Well, if you ever need anything, I'm head of the department now," Belvedere said. "I do say it was a shame the day we lost you."

"Well you never know," Lorcan said with an even smile. "Good to see you again."

The two shook hands and Callie started walking towards the pub with her dad. She stopped, seeing something solid once more.

"Don't buy the box," she turned and shouted after Belvedere. He turned back towards them.

"Why not?" he asked.

"It's broken," she replied, then turned back, her dad ushering her along.

"You don't have to always tell people what's on your mind, sweetheart," Lorcan instructed.

"I didn't want him to waste his money," Callie said, and they stepped through the doors and towards the fireplace to go to Grandma and Grandpa Potter's.


	15. Ivy in June: Part 1

**A/N:** It shouldn't be a surprise to anyone who has been following these stories that this bit is getting to be longer than initially planned. There will be a part 2 on this and, as with the other "additions", I feel like this best fits as an addendum to Albus's and Emily's story, but I won't be changing the status back to incomplete, because the "story" is done. This is really just bonus material :) As usual, reviews are so SO welcomed!

 _ **Ivy in June: Part 1**_

Arthur had finally fallen to sleep in his bed. Albus rubbed his eyes, closing the door quietly and walked out to the couch, sinking down beside Emily as he let out a breath. She had that distant look she had taken on the last month or so, like she could see things beyond their moment.

"Alright?" he asked, crossing his arm over to rest his hand on her full, pregnant stomach.

She smiled and looked over to him, shaking out of that expression.

"Fine," she said, leaning over to take his lips in hers, lining his jaw with her hand. "Thanks for putting him down. I know you had a long day."

Albus adjusted himself, pulling Emily's legs over his to bring her closer. As close as possible in her current condition.

"As long as it helps you, I don't mind," he replied. Emily leaned into him, resting against his chest as Albus ran his fingers up and down her rounded side. "Still have heartburn?"

"Just a little," Emily said.

It had been a chronic issue since about the fifth month. It was something that hadn't happened when she was pregnant with Arthur at all. When they had seen Josephine just after learning they were definitely having a girl, she had mentioned that Emily's mum had the same issue when she was pregnant with Emily.

"A little karma, I think," Aunt Josie had chuckled. Emily had laughed at the thought, too, following up with various questions about what Josephine remembered regarding her mum while she was pregnant. Albus knew Emily loved hearing things about her mum, and when Emily was pregnant, it seemed to come up more often.

"I've been saving this," Josephine added, pulling out a box, already wrapped with a pink bow. The paper was worn and faded. The bow was limp, though still perfectly shaped.

"What is it?" Emily asked.

"Open it," Josephine urged.

Emily did, pulling out a lavender colored baby quilt. "Aunt Josie, it's so pretty!"

"I made it for you. I mean, when you were little," Josephine said. "I meant to bring it when you were first born, but never really got the chance."

"Why not?" Emily asked.

If she had really thought a moment before asking, Albus knew immediately she wouldn't have. Josephine focused on the dishes in front of her, pink rising to her cheeks.

"Oh, you know," Josephine said. Albus watched Emily's face fall with realization before her aunt even finished. "I was behind on finishing it and just kept putting it off. But I finally got it finished for Ivy!"

They all ignored what was left unspoken. Whatever had happened, Josephine had been distracted by the death of her sister. Or perhaps Emily's dad wasn't accepting visitors after his wife died. Or maybe the story was true, and Josephine felt bad because after a couple years of putting off finishing it, Taylor and Emily were taken by their insane grandmother and she wouldn't see her nieces for nearly a decade after that.

Albus tucked Emily further into him, kissing her forehead.

"I'll be sure to get the spare bedroom ready for Josephine in the next couple days," Albus said.

"She won't be here until next week," Emily said. "June third, I think. You might want to check the owl she sent, though."

Josephine had insisted on being around when Ivy came. She would watch Arthur and help out as they adjusted to having two and Emily recovered. Emily wasn't due until the eighth, and if Arthur was any indication Ivy wouldn't come for about a week after, but Josephine insisted she would come to the Burrow early, just in case. After all, she wouldn't have administrative duties again until at least July. And much of her work could be done remotely as it was.

"Still, I'll just make sure everything's ready," Albus said. "I think it might help you relax a bit."

"Relax?" Emily asked, her brow knit. "I feel like all I've done lately is relax."

"You've been on edge the last few weeks."

"No I haven't," she said.

Albus just about argued. He had seen it. In moments when she didn't notice him watching. At times when Arthur grabbed a toy and started playing with his imaginary friends. At meals or late at night. Instead, he stroked her hair.

"Maybe I'm just projecting," Albus said. He was sure he was not. But she didn't continue the discussion and he didn't bring it up again. He just made a mental list of things to do to keep Emily from stressing herself more than necessary as they sat, holding to one another in the still of the evening.

Over the next week, Albus made sure to take the bulk of caring for Arthur when he got home from work. He cleaned the guest room, stocked the kitchen, prepared a few meals ahead of time, and prodded Emily for a list of things she wanted in the duffle for St. Mungo's. He brought home extra files and made sure plenty of assignments were made so he could take whatever leave was necessary after Ivy was born.

On the last night of May, Albus rubbed Emily's swollen feet until she fell to sleep, then pulled the blankets up around her, did the dishes, and crawled into the bed beside her, kissing Emily's temple before closing his own eyes and drifting off to sleep.

Albus woke to Emily's cry from the bathroom. He groped at the empty space beside him on the bed before he realized what he heard and scrambled clumsily to his feet, reaching for his wand on the side table.

"Em?" he asked.

She groaned again. The door was cracked open. Albus grabbed the door handle and pushed carefully. Emily was grasping the edge of the bathtub, doubled over and grimacing. Albus moved to grab her hand, easing her back to sit on the tiled floor. The knees of his pajamas were instantly soaked as he knelt beside her.

"I'm sorry, I made a mess," she said as the contraction subsided.

"Your water broke," Albus chuckled. "Not much control you have of that."

Emily doubled over again, crushing Albus's hand. He put his other arm around her and gritted his teeth, waiting it out with her.

"You've got this, love, you've got it," he said as her head lolled back again.

"We need… we need someone to watch Arthur," she gasped.

Albus lunged for his wand, which he had dropped, and sent a patronus. The little silver frog jumped across the bathroom and through the window. "My parents will come," he said. "Can you stand?"

"In a minute," Emily said breathlessly. "I need clothes."

"Don't worry about—"

"Please, I want to get dressed," Emily begged.

When she had gone into labor before, it had been slow and steady. She wasn't even sure it was labor until they went to see the healer in charge of her care and were told she needed to go to Mungo's right then. Albus did as she asked, going into the room and grabbing a simple maternity dress. Emily's face was strained when he came back, but she was forcing steady breaths. Her skin was losing color and he started looking more closely. No, this wasn't like the last time. Not at all.

Albus helped Emily remove her top, shimmying the dress over her shoulders and helping her arms through, adjusting it. Next, she had him helping her remove her pajama bottoms. That's when he noticed the blood. It had pooled beneath her, mixed with the other fluids and Albus froze.

"What's wrong?" Emily asked.

Albus swallowed. "Nothing," he said, removing the flannel pants, tossing them into the tub before she could see them stained red. He reached for a towel and lifted Emily from under her arms to place it beneath her. "Just relax, love."

Emily kept at her breathing and when she doubled over this time, Albus sat facing her, one arm wrapped around her knee, the other gripping her hand, trying to ignore the deepening red. Only he saw Emily's face when she noticed it, too.

"My parents will be here soon," Albus said in response and she just nodded.

They sat quietly for a moment, waiting. The minutes ticked by.

"Albus," Emily said quietly, her breathing labored.

"What do you need?" he asked.

"You have to promise," she started, then grimaced, holding her belly. She stayed bent over this time holding her other knee with her free arm.

"Promise what?" Albus finally asked.

Emily turned her face towards him, anguish filling the spaces where he usually saw joy. She struggled to focus her blue eyes on him.

"You can't check out," Emily said. Albus tilted his head. "No matter what happens to me, you can't check out."

Terror shook at Albus's core, but he tried to push it down.

"Nothing's going to happen to you," Albus said.

"They need you," Emily said, tears filling her eyes, her bottom lip trembling. "Arthur and Ivy will need you, okay? You can't check out."

"I won't," Albus said. "But nothing's going to—"

"If it does, you can't," Emily said, becoming more panicked.

Albus held her face in his hands. "Everything will be fine."

"You can't."

"I won't," Albus said. Emily nodded, then yelled again as another contraction took over.

"Albus?" Ginny called from the room.

"In here!" he called as Emily continued to fight through the pain. The door opened and Ginny flew into the bathroom to help, taking Emily's other side and whispering in her ear. Albus looked towards the pool of blood and water and his mother's eyes followed there as well. She gave a simple nod, but continued to coo, rather than discuss it.

"There you are, sweetheart. You are such a good Mum," Ginny said. "Almost through, there. Almost through."

Emily fell back as the contraction released her.

"We need to get her to Mungo's," Albus said. "Now."

"I just called transport," Harry said, standing in their dark bedroom, wand down to his side.

Albus looked pleadingly to his mum, who pushed Emily's hair back and continued her comforting words.

"I'll stay with Arthur. Harry will go with you and Albus, alright? We'll get you to St. Mungo's quickly," Ginny said.

"Aunt Josie—"

"I'll try her by floo as soon as we get you going," Ginny promised. "I'll send an owl if needed."

Emily nodded and relaxed back.

There was a whirlwind as the medics arrived. Albus tried to gather information by the instructions they issued, but his expertise was in law, not medicine. Instead, he held onto Emily's hand as they were loaded into a vehicle.

"I'll meet you there," Harry told him, giving his shoulder a squeeze before the door was shut and they were off to Mungo's.

* * *

Sean put an arm around Rayna as they entered their new land in the hills of the Iowa territory. She had that spark in her eyes; the one he had fallen in love with instantly. They bounced in their wagon over the small hill. Sean had never been so glad they decided to travel without any muggles. In the untouched terrain, he had used his wand to get them over the worst bits, where he had heard muggles often had to leave boxes of dishes, books, and sometimes even supplies on the side of the road to navigate. Yes, him and Rayna had to manage on their own, but his wife was strong and they had done just fine.

Hitting a bump, Rayna's hand went to her stomach. Her growing stomach. It was hardly noticeable just yet. She had just told him a week into their move westward. She claimed she hadn't known, but Sean had a feeling that Rayna had waited until they were away from her family to make the announcement. Her father—a gruff, Swedish immigrant—never would have approved Sean taking her away from them had he known. Once they were settled and could send an owl with detailed locations, they would be able to apparate out, so Sean didn't feel overly guilty. Besides, Rayna wanted to come. And Sean couldn't live without her.

"It's beautiful," Rayna said, her hand gripping his tightly.

Sean could see it already. The little house, a fence, a garden… they would set up here and make a new life for themselves. A perfect life.

* * *

"Just one more, Em," Albus encouraged, his hand sore from her grasp as she gritted her teeth, healers all around. He pressed his lips to her temple. She rested her head back, taking in quick, hard breaths. "She's almost here, then it will all be over."

The healers had assured Emily and Albus that bleeding wasn't always abnormal and that Emily wasn't showing any other signs of a troubled birth. Moving her directly into delivery, they monitored her condition. A healing assistant wiped at her forehead as Emily geared herself up again and bent forward, groaning and holding tight.

Another few moments and she fell back into him again. "No more," she cried. "I just need a break… I need—"

"Almost," Albus said. "You can have a break, just a little more."

Emily reached around with her other hand, letting go of the bed railing to grab onto Albus's neck, pulling him to her, taking his lips as they kissed. She tensed up, kissing him through it. Albus kissed her back, holding her hand to his chest, moving his other along the curve of her stomach. As she pulled back, she groaned again, and Albus kept his face close, coaching her through the pain.

"Here we are!" the healer announced and Emily put in one last herculanean effort as Albus wrapped the fingers from his left hand into her sweat dampened hair.

The assistants moved in a flurry and Albus saw his daughter pulled into the healer's arms, crying loudly and clearly in almost an instant. Emily fell back on the bed and Albus kissed her forehead over and over until one of the nurses brought Ivy, bundled up in a green blanket, laying her in Emily's open arms.

"Look at her, Al," Emily said quietly.

He adjusted himself, wrapping an arm around his wife, reaching fingers out to feel the soft skin of Ivy's cheek. Her face screwed up, though the cries had stopped, like she was trying to figure out just how much of a fuss to make over the trauma of being born. She stretched her little arms, pushing against the blanket blocking her complete freedom. Albus laughed as Emily's head fell against his shoulder.

"We're losing her," the healer said.

Albus couldn't register what that meant, even as Emily's arms slackened and someone took Ivy from her.

"Em," Albus said, shaking his shoulder to try and rouse her. "Emily."

Others were pulling her away from him. An arm landed on his shoulder. "Mr. Potter—"

"Emily, love," Albus said, ignoring the small, pudgy man trying to gain his attention. He stood, holding to the edge of the now hovering bed, surrounded by others, all calling instructions to one another. "What's happening?" he asked the woman across from him, levitating the bed and guiding it towards a pair of double doors.

"Sir, we need you to stay calm," a taller, younger man stopped him from following at the doors.

"No, Emily," Albus said, trying to push past him. Two wands were trained at him, restraining him before he could even take a step. "What's happening?" he yelled.

"Sir, sir, she's being taken for care at—"

"Emily!" Albus shouted. Ivy cried behind him. Albus continued to push against the restraints. "Emily!"

* * *

Calvin Griffins sat in the rocking chair that he had bought for Eliza when Taylor was born, Emily crying again as he shook the warmed bottle. Taylor sat glumly in the corner, book in her hand with the same dark hair as Eliza masking her face.

"There you go, Emily," Calvin said, coaxing the bottle by her lips.

Once again, Emily took the nipple of the bottle and within ten seconds spit it out, shrieking unhappily. Calvin let out a huff. Eliza had always been better at this. And here he had changed Emily, swaddled her, and spent half an hour bouncing her around the room. He had offered her the bottle three times by now, and nothing.

Taylor stood up, walked up to his knees and bent down over Emily.

"Don't cry, Em," Taylor said, trilling her fingers softly on Emily's stomach. No matter how many times Calvin tried this, it never worked for him. Emily not only stopped crying immediately, but her attention was on Taylor, blinking at her big sister with wide, blue eyes—the only thing Taylor hadn't gotten from Eliza.

Calvin wondered if Emily knew how much Taylor looked like their mother. It's all Calvin could see since his wife died four months ago. Everything had been fine and then… she was gone. They had tried for so long to have another one. Eliza had been so excited when she was finally pregnant again. Little did either of them know what the trade off would be.

The doorbell rang.

"Aunt Josie!" Taylor shouted, running from the room as Calvin gathered Emily up and followed down the stairs.

Taylor was wrapped around Josephine's middle by the time he made it to the entryway. Josephine looked up at him. At least she didn't look like her sister. They had a couple features that looked to have some relation, but Josephine's hair was lighter, frizzy, and she had plain grey eyes. Smart, but not the same beauty that her sister inherited.

"Hey, Calvin," Josephine said sadly. They had gotten on alright when Eliza was alive, but it was always the two sisters who were thick as thieves. He mostly stayed out of their fun when Josephine was around. Now the one thing they had in common was that they both missed Eliza and it underscored every word between them.

"Hey, Josephine," he said, trying his best to grin.

"How's our baby girl?" Josephine asked, lighting up as she looked at Emily in his arms, reaching out.

"She likes to make noise," Taylor said. "Like this!" Taylor proceeded to mimic the clucking noise that Emily would get going on when she got excited. Josephine laughed.

"You were a talkative little bird, too," Josephine told her, holding Emily to her, cooing and making faces.

It didn't get passed Calvin that Emily rarely cried when she was with Josephine.

"I had a few errands to run, if that's okay," Calvin said, scratching his head.

"Of course," Josephine said with an encouraging smile. "Whatever you need, Calvin."

"Thanks," he said, grabbing his cloak. "You listen to your aunt, Taylor."

He leaned over and gave Taylor a kiss before she sauntered after Josephine and Emily, who had moved into the living room. Calvin stood in the doorway a moment and took a deep breath. Eliza would have been so happy.

* * *

Albus stood at the window of the nursery, looking at Ivy amid the rows of infants being monitored by the nurses. She was sleeping, now. Peaceful. Harry stood at his shoulder, a hand on his back as they both stayed silent, nothing to talk about until there was news from the healers.

The sharp click of heels grabbed Albus's attention and he turned his head, seeing Emily's aunt, brows knit, heading his direction.

"They just told me," Aunt Josie said, pulling Albus into a hug. She was tall, like Emily, and Albus didn't have to bend down to hug her back. She pulled away, a hand on each of his arms. "Anything new?"

Albus shook his head and wiped a hand down his face. It had been several hours.

"I'm sorry," he choked out. "We didn't know there was a problem until—"

"Shhhh," Aunt Josie hushed him and pulled him in again. "There's nothing to be sorry for, alright? She's strong. She'll get through it."

All Albus could picture was the pallid look that Emily had when they pulled her from him. He kept trying to think of what he should have done to stay with her, but logic continued to kick in, reminding him he just would have been forcibly removed and wouldn't even be in St. Mungo's now.

"Do you need anything, Josephine?" Harry asked. She gave a large, heaving sigh.

"A cup of coffee, maybe. And I need to send an owl to Taylor as soon as possible," she added.

"I'll get some paper and a quill for you. And I'll get an express owl at Diagon Alley once you have it ready."

"Thank you, Harry," Josephine said, shrugging out of her travelling cloak. "Where's Ivy?"

Albus turned towards the room of babies. "Right there," he said. "Second row."

Josephine moved close to the glass, a hand to her chest as tears filled her eyes.

"She looks just like Emily did," Josephine said. "Arthur didn't, you know. Same mouth—"

"But he takes after me," Albus finished with a half smile.

Josephine turned towards him and reached over, placing a hand over his on the rail. "It will be okay," she said.

Albus nodded.

They stood staring at Ivy until the healer came down the hall, rubbing her hands together as Albus straightened.

"Can I see her?" Albus asked.

"In a minute," she replied. Her eyes took in Josephine, then turned back to him. "Mr. Potter, we need to talk first. Privately, perhaps."

"This is Emily's aunt," Albus said. "Anything you have for me, she can be here for."

The healer nodded and licked her lips. "We're struggling to find a source for the bleeding or the slowed heartbeat… or pretty much anything else."

Albus could feel a vice tightening around his heart as she kept talking. Various explanations continued to wash over him as Josephine asked the questions. Albus waited. Waited for a sign that she was fine. Waited to be told she would certainly recover. Waited for good news.

"We'll keep her on the sleeping draught until we can find the source of the problem," the healer said. "It seems to keep her stable at the very least. What's important is that answers are being looked at. Is there any major issues in her medical history we need to know about?"

Josephine shook her head. "Not that we know of, but anything from when she was young wasn't really recorded."

"What about family history?"

"Her mum died giving birth to her," Albus said, numbly. Silence hung over them for a moment.

"Not during," Josephine corrected. "My sister hadn't been feeling well. Lots of heartburn and anemia when she had Emily. There was a blood clot that they didn't catch. She passed when Emily was a few days old."

"Well, the good news is we checked for clots and it's not a problem. Anything else? Grandparents?"

"My mother struggled with poor health in general," Josephine said. "But it was chronic. Emily's never been like that."

"Okay," the healer said. "If there's anything else you can think of, it would be helpful to know."

"Can I see her?" Albus asked.

The healer nodded. "This way," she said.

Albus looked back at Ivy and then turned to follow the healer, Josephine right behind him. They were lead to a sterile, isolated room. Emily was laid out, her porcelain skin glowing against the blue bedding of the pillow and sheets. Albus crossed the room, placing a hand on her cheek. Her face was set and relaxed. Eyes closed. The healer gave Josephine more information as Albus tuned out. The nurse. Call them if anything was needed. She would be in touch. Albus carefully sat on the edge of the bed, bringing his face close to Emily's.

"Emily," he whispered, looking at her face closely for signs of life. "Wake up. Please. _Please._ "

He moved his thumb along her cheek, wrapping his other hand under her neck. She didn't move. Easy breaths rose and fell, but nothing changed. Emily wasn't with them.

Josephine was on the other side of the bed, mirroring where Albus sat. She pulled Emily's hand to her cheek, using her free hand to stroke Emily's hair, framing her face. Tears filled the woman's eyes.

"Eliza was so excited to have her," Josephine said. "She had always wanted four, but they had a hard time getting pregnant after Taylor."

Albus wasn't sure he wanted to hear about another woman who had died after giving birth to a daughter, but he didn't stop her.

"Emily sure loved you," Josephine said with a grin. "She had always been boy crazy. And I remember when she brought Eric. I kept thinking he was okay, but it just didn't fit, you know? But there wasn't anything I could disapprove of. Not then, at least. I just kept hoping it would phase out. Then you came along and I thought… there it is."

"I needed her," Albus said. "I didn't think I did at first, but I needed Emily more than I ever needed anything."

They fell into silence again, both of them holding Emily in their own way, waiting for her to wake.


	16. Ivy in June: Part 2

**A/N:** Best laid plans people... Sorry this one took so long. I have been moving stuff into storage, getting ready for a big summer adventure/project, and traveling to see family. Also, this one was harder than the Harry one at the end of Ginny Potter and Hell's Portal, since it required something of an ending. Also it's long. Really long. Sorry. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! (Next will be that bit of fluff for you, PotterMum!)

As a disclaimer, this little plot bunny mixes with Native American history. I am somewhat familiar with the tribe mentioned, but by no means have done extensive research or am knowledgable enough for any of it to be taken as anything but a fictional idea entangled with real issues of the time. I'm playing as much of the basic ideas JK Rowling gave in terms of Native wizards this way.

 _ **Ivy in June: Part 2**_

Sean urged his horse forward, faster and faster in the dead of night. Rayna's screams echoed in his ears. It was normal, Frederick Merrifield insisted as his wife, Patricia, and their oldest daughter continued to tend to Rayna while the man sat, hearing only the worst of everything.

Patricia had talked to Frederick first. A grim expression set in and he nodded, stroking his beard. They were the closest wizarding neighbors Sean had and he had apparated to get Patricia as soon as signs of birthing came. Frederick was full of all sorts of reassurances and Sean believed them. Afterall, the Merrifields had seven surviving children to their names and not one lost in the midst.

Frederick held Sean back, reminding him that it wasn't a man's place to be in a birthing room. That there were other things they could do.

"There's a potion," Frederick said. "Only…"

"Only what?" Sean demanded.

"Only the main ingredient is collected by the Crow medicine men. They used to be friendlier to us. You know, those of us with magic."

"I'll get it," Sean insisted, reaching for his cloak.

"You can't apparate on their lands."

"I'll get it," Sean growled.

"Tell them what's going on with your wife. They'll know what we need. Just be careful, with all this treaty nonsense from the muggles, there's little trust from them anymore," Frederick explained.

Sean nodded. "I'll get it."

"I'll have everything else ready," he replied.

Sean rushed out to the horse, climbing on bareback and using its mane to hold on over the rocky terrain into the native lands. He heard the sound of music echoing in the distance before he saw the glow of firelight. His back hurt from how he had ridden, and he was certain he was pushing his horse beyond its normal capabilities, but he had to get there. He had to get there now.

People scattered, yelling as he interrupted their dancing and chanting.

"I need help!" he shouted.

There was a murmuring and various hands pulled him down, pushing him back. He was separated from his mare. She tossed back her head as one tall, large Crow yelled into his face, spit gathering as he shoved him against a rocky wall of the canyon.

"Please!" he shouted back.

The man raised his arm.

"Stop!"

Silence settled over the entire group in front of him. He watched as they parted, the man coming through with an abundance of hide clothing, elaborate beading, and eccentric designs to his hair. He had a large scar running from the inner brow of his right eye, passed the outside left corner of his lips. He narrowed his eyes at Sean.

"You interrupted," he said in broken English.

"I'm sorry," Sean said, panting. "I'm sorry, but I need your help. My wife—"

"Why help you?" the man said.

Sean swallowed. "I have no quarrel with you. We have lived here peacefully."

"On whose land?"

"What?" Sean asked.

"Whose land do you now hold?"

"O-our own," Sean said.

"Are you sure about that?" the taller, more intimidating Crow asked him. Unlike the older man, his English was clear and without a distinguishable accent.

"I think so," Sean said. "I only recently learned of your struggle, but we are outside any hunting grounds."

"All of this was ours," the larger Crow said.

"Well then I'm sorry, I didn't know," Sean said. "But my wife… she's having our child and—"

Several people murmured as an old woman came forward, pulling his wand from his cloak before he knew what exactly they were fussing over.

"The foal!" the woman cried.

"The foal!" others would call in English, but mostly they were all jabbering in their native tongue and Sean looked around, wondering if the baby would die in the time it took them to allow him to explain himself and what he needed.

"You want a trade?" the older man asked.

"Yes," Sean said. "My wife—"

"Come!" he replied and the tall man pushed Sean along by the shoulder, moving behind him as they took him to the outskirts of the dwellings, entering a tent where an elderly man sat, spooning some sort of soup into his mouth. The older man squatted beside him, muttering something to him as the eldest of them put down the bowl and looked at Sean. He spoke in their native language. The man behind Sean interpreted.

"You have come for Bilítaachiia Root," he said.

"I'm not sure, sir. My wife—" he was interrupted again. Interpretation came a moment behind.

"She is giving birth to your son."

"Son?"

"Yes your son."

The elder stood, more lithely than seemed possible for a man so wrinkled with age. He came close to Sean, shorter than the others, though he put his face close. As close as he could manage. "This is a trade."

"I don't have much," Sean said. "We spent everything to get here."

"This spring your mare will have a foal that will shift the war against the white man. The first foal you will bring to us."

"Anything," Sean said. "If you can save my son, I will give anything."

The elderly man turned and shuffled to a table, untangling wild and dirt covered roots, bringing them back to Sean. He placed one hand under Sean's, the other holding the roots so that they sat between each man's palm. He spoke. English followed.

"If you do not make payment at the time it is due, you will lose what is precious to you."

Sean swallowed. "I'll pay."

The elderly man dropped the roots into his hand. "Go," he said for himself.

* * *

After two days, Ivy was allowed to go home. Albus and Josephine had a chance to meet with a specialist healer when she was to be released, so the duty fell to Taylor and Ginny to take Ivy back to the Burrow with them that morning. The meeting didn't put them significantly ahead, though they did attempt to give Josephine and Albus more specific problems that would be looked at for answers. Of course, they still did not have any.

Every other moment Albus sat next to Emily, holding her hand, looking for any sign of improvement (often at the detriment of getting his hopes up), and slept leaning next to her shoulder. After a week of this, Taylor and Josephine would prod him into taking shifts. He hated to leave, but Taylor was giving him narrowed glances and growing more insistent.

Rather than heading home, Albus would stop at his Uncle George and Aunt Angelina's to shower and change clothes, then head into the Ministry, working minimally on assignments and stealing away into the vast library. The Ministry's library was not limited to books about magic. It did include as much, of course, but it was better described as an archive, and one of the most comprehensive in the world. The British Ministry of Magic had various arrangements with other ministries for record exchanges—British records for Russian, African, German, American. It was a way to ensure the continuation of these records, but in truth the wizarding world was still in a minority compared to the muggle. Of course, even this would be limited, but Albus had to wonder.

Josephine had few answers when it came to her side of Emily's extended family. And they always included an addendum along the lines of not knowing for sure. No one in the family talked about unpleasant things, it seemed. Albus had always thought it was just Emily and Taylor. He didn't blame them either, but it seemed as much a family tradition as anything else. Taylor knew even less about their father and his family, though Albus was looking into both, finding answers to questions he knew would be otherwise avoided.

After the fourth day of investigations, Albus walked into the hospital room, tucking away a couple scrolls into his briefcase. Taylor was leaning back in a chair with her feet on the base of the hospital cot. Josephine was at the end of the bed, rubbing Emily's feet with lotion.

"Hi, Albus," she said, giving him an encouraging smile. "How's Ivy?"

"Good," Albus said. Taylor tilted her head and narrowed her eyes at him. He concentrated on Josephine. "Arthur is smitten. Keeps telling my mum that Ivy's his." This was true. He was getting reports in the forms of owls and exchanges when his mum would bring food by the hospital.

"What a sweetie," Josephine said, "and a good brother."

"Emily wondered how he would be with a sibling," Albus sighed, looking at Emily.

"I remember when dad brought Emily home," Taylor said. "I adored her, but I still missed my dad."

"You mean mom," Josephine said, but Albus didn't miss the meaningful glare. He swallowed.

"Why don't you come with me," Josephine said. "I could use some company picking out some clothes for Ivy. And something for Arthur at Diagon Alley. He'll love seeing his aunt, anyway."

"Alright," Taylor said.

"Call us if there's anything, Albus," Josephine added. He nodded and she came over, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

He waited until they were out of the room for nearly ten minutes before pulling out the records, examining them again.

* * *

Calvin turned the glass of whiskey in his hand, topping it off and drinking more. Late night turned into early morning and he continued to sip and think. Emily had grown even more lovely, even more like Eliza. Taylor had been reminder enough, but Emily was like an exact copy. A terrible and unfair pestering that he lost the person he had loved most.

If the girls needed him, it might have been different, but they didn't. Taylor and Emily lived in their own little world in this house. Neither of them found joy with him and he found himself less patient than he was before losing Eliza. He wasn't the father Eliza had thought he was and he didn't know how to be that. It was time to stop trying.

Calvin took a quill and wrote out as much as he could stand in a letter. His hand shook at the end, the words becoming small and unsteady. He took another drink. With the page filled with ink, he folded the page and sealed it into an envelope. He went into his office and grabbed the bag with his wedding pictures, clothing, and two locks of hair he had taken from each of his daughters the night before. Calvin tightened his hand around the bag and moved towards the front door.

"Daddy?" Taylor asked from the top of the stairs.

He turned, looking at her. She was getting to be so big. Eight years old and she never stopped getting stronger, being better. Josephine would help her continue that way. He was sure of it.

"Where are you going, Daddy?" Taylor asked, rubbing her tired eyes. Calvin swallowed.

"I have an early job today," he lied. "Go back to bed, bug."

"Did you get your lunch?" Taylor asked. "I made you a lunch."

"I'll get it in a minute," Calvin said, feeling his resolve weaken. "Come… come give me a hug and get back to sleep."

Taylor skipped down the stairs and wrapped her arms around his middle. "Love you, Daddy."

Tears burned Calvin's eyes. He forced them back, holding Taylor tightly to him. "I love you too, bug."

Calvin gave Taylor one last kiss on the cheek and watched as she ascended the stairs and turned to her bedroom on the right, then he turned and walked out of the house him and Eliza had bought together. The place that had been their home. On the way down the road, he put the letter in the doorway of their neighbor that would explain where he went and let them know how to contact Josephine.

Calvin never could have imagined that the letter would fall when the neighbor's son ran out to chase after a stray dog a couple hours later. He couldn't have known it would ease down into a large gap between slats on the porch. By the time anyone found it, the ink had faded and the paper was destroyed. The words had long since been unknown and his daughters ended up with his estranged mother, who Calvin had purposefully kept his daughters away from until the day she received an owl, explaining the need for someone to come and claim Emily and Taylor.

Calvin never knew the damage he caused the day he walked out that door.

* * *

Albus sat at the bar at the Leaky Cauldron after hours of searching and thinking. He spun the glass with the tips of his finger, watching as the amber liquid sloshed in a pattern, back and forth. He needed to get back to the hospital, but he didn't know how he was going to sit there and watch her without anything new. Nothing he could do.

Someone sunk into the chair beside him, even though the rest of the seats were empty. He looked over as his brother, James, scratched his head and leaned on his forearms, looking straight ahead.

"Just a butterbeer, Bowers," James said, adjusting himself to turn towards Albus. He waited a moment, thanking the bartender and taking a sip. "Mum's worried about you."

Albus gave a huff. "Mum's always worried."

"She says you haven't been home at all," James said. "Three weeks—"

"You know, I don't need a lecture from you," Albus snapped.

"No lectures," James said, staying more calm than Albus remembered him ever being before. He was either settling in for a long conversation or (Albus suspected) James simply pitied him that much. "I don't think I have to tell you that Taylor's brassed. She's had a few choice words about your absence when the kids aren't around."

"I can't be there," Albus said, tears stinging as he leaned into his hands. "The last time we talked—before labor set in—Emily was fine, James."

"I know," James said. "I mean, you must realize, though, that it hits a little close to home for Taylor. Disappearing father abandoning his two kids when they don't have their mum either."

"I didn't abandon them," Albus said, turning towards James. "Mum and Dad are with them. Not some insane, abusive woman I've left their fates to."

"They still need you," James said sympathetically.

"I'll be there," Albus said. "I just need time."

"Time for what?"

Albus turned in his chair, reaching down to the briefcase and pulling out the papers he had copied from the Ministry library. He dropped them in front of James. He shuffled through them.

"What are these?" James asked.

"Records of Emily's ancestors," Albus said.

"Why were you looking at these?"

"Seven generations on her mum's side," Albus said. "Seven generations, they never had more than two children each."

"Okay," James replied, confused.

"Emily's mum died. Her grandmum was perfectly healthy, then was more or less an invalid after Josephine was born. Emily's great uncle's wife died after their second son was born. The ones that didn't have two were fine, but none had more than that and there's always complications the second time 'round," Albus said, pointing to each example in the papers as he cited them.

"So she has a condition?"

"I think they're cursed," Albus said.

James froze and looked at him again. "Are you sure you aren't just—"

"I'm not just anything," Albus said. "This is what I've been doing. This is what I'm looking at. Josephine said her mum had the same heartburn when she was pregnant with Emily. Not pregnant in general, just with Emily. Emily didn't have any problems with Arthur. She had been totally fine with Ivy, too, until the end. There's something bigger here."

James continued to rifle through the papers, shuffling them as he licked his lips.

"Why didn't you tell them this is what you were doing?" James asked.

"Why do you think? Your first reaction was to assume I was grasping straws," Albus replied. He picked up his glass and took another drink.

"Sorry," James said and took a deep breath. "But we're here to help. Let us help."

"How?" Albus asked.

"For starters, how about I pick up where you left off here," James said. "Is there anything beyond this?"

"If there is, I'm not finding it," Albus admitted.

"Okay," James said. "I'll get Imogen to help me with this. You go home."

James clapped a hand on Albus's shoulder, paid the bartender for both their drinks, and Albus finished his off. He took the now empty briefcase and took the floo at the inn to go back to the Burrow.

The living room was empty and Albus walked quietly up the stairs to the first landing, opening the door to the nursery. Ginny sat in the rocking chair—the one Grandpa Weasley had made—with Arthur on her lap and Ivy in Arthur's arms, Ginny steadying her with her own hands.

"I'm holding her, Granmum," Arthur said, proudly.

"Yes, you are," Ginny said, chuckling. She looked up and caught Albus's eye, relief washing over her in a sigh.

"Daddy!" Arthur shouted.

Ginny scrambled to keep Ivy steady as the toddler crawled off her lap. Albus knelt down and opened his arms, feeling Arthur's little arms around his neck and holding tight.

"Hi, my boy," Albus whispered. "I've missed you."

Arthur pulled back.

"Look! My sister, Daddy," Arthur pointed towards Ivy. Ginny stood, bouncing Ivy in her arms.

Albus stood, setting down Arthur, who wrapped himself around Albus's leg. He held out his arms for Ivy.

"There you are, love," Ginny said, handing Ivy over.

Albus looked down at the tiny features, so like Emily's already. He hadn't even realized until that moment that he hadn't held his daughter in the three weeks she had been alive. He pulled her tighter. "Daddy's here," he whispered. "Daddy will always be here."

Ivy began to cry and Albus walked over to the rocking chair, sitting down. Ginny handed him a bottle sitting on the changing table and he hushed her. Arthur crawled onto his lap and together, they hushed and rocked Ivy until she settled, happily eating and rocking with her family.

* * *

Rayna had been anxious to continue building their family. They named their first son Wilhelm, after Rayna's father. He was barely a year when Rayna was pregnant again.

Sean continued to work and grow their land. The seasons went by and the mare, too, was ready to give birth that spring, shortly after Rayna announced her pregnancy to him. The roads and connections for wizards were becoming strong enough, her mother would be able to come out this time. Patricia had told them the potion from the Crow would be potent enough to make Rayna strengthened as well.

Sean took it as a good sign when the mare gave birth not to one, but two foals. The first was a pure, beautiful and unique white, unlike anything from the family line of the horse he had purchased. His own was brown with black markings, as was the second foal. He sent a notice to the Medicine Man, letting them know that he would bring the owed horse in six months, after weaning it from the mother.

The longer he worked with the horses, though, the more he realized how extraordinary the white mare would be. Strong and agile, the horse showed more potential than he thought he would ever see in one of his steeds. As they weaned, he thought more and more. They were both from the first birth. That was what he had promised, wasn't it?

When the day came for the exchange he stood, watching the two. The white mare looked at him, unblinking, like she was reading him. The other was a strong horse as well. As a stallion, the same genes could be bred through his siring among whatever horses the Crow already had. It would be infinitely more valuable, Sean argued with himself.

Sean reached for the lead rope, taking the dark stallion and placing it on with one hand, holding the horse still with the other. Leading the horse out, he didn't look back, mounting his own mare and following the trail to the edge of the native lands. He waited until the large man came, inspected the horse, then nodded approvingly. They didn't shake hands or exchange words and Sean let out a sigh of relief as he returned home to Rayna.

Three months passed before Sean thought of the mare or stallion again. Patricia and Fredrick were gone, but Sean was able to bring back their eldest girl, who had helped before.

"I need warm water… Towels… Philip will tell Ma to come when they're home. We just have to wait until then," the girl said.

Sean sat behind Rayna, patting her forehead as she breathed heavily. Wilhelm slept peacefully in the other room.

"It's… it's not like last time," the girl said, her brow knit.

"The potion should have made this easier," Sean said. "Your dad said that."

"It does," the girl replied. "It always does."

Rayna groaned and Sean held onto her, holding her hands in each of his. "It's alright, it's alright," Sean continued to mutter into her ear.

She was pale and sweating profusely, feverish in his arms.

"I have to go get more root for the potion," Sean said, moving from behind Rayna, folding pillows and grabbing another blanket to prop her up. "I have to do it now. Tell your da I'll be back soon."

The girl nodded, her eyes wide and fearful. "Hurry," she pleaded.

Sean leaned over and kissed Rayna's burning forehead, then turned and made a journey he had made once before. Faster, he pushed his mare. The darkened path was eerily familiar beneath him. Sean continued to picture his wife as she lay, lose energy when hours before she had been well. He dug his heels into his mare and clicked his tongue, urging her to lunge deeper, moving quicker.

The tribe was not in the middle of a ceremony this time. Most were tucked away into their shelters, a few wandering in the dark.

"Where is your medicine man?" Sean shouted.

A woman started yelling at him. Sean didn't need their language to know that she was telling him off. He turned on the horse, continuing to ask as he went farther into their camp.

"Medicine man?" he asked. A young girl dropped the ragged doll in her hands. "Medicine man?"

He saw the tall, stoic man who had held him before and Sean pushed forward, coming closer. "I need to see your medicine man," Sean said, his voice shaking.

"No," the man said, his voice boomed and the chaotic murmur around them ended abruptly.

Sean stayed still, stunned for a moment. "My wife—"

"Would be fine, if you had given us the first foal," the man stated. Sean froze. "I thought I sensed your lie."

"There were two…"

"The _first_ ," the man snapped.

"You can have her," Sean said, panic rising in him. "You can keep both. I will bring her tomorrow—"

"Too late," the man said. "What could have been was tainted."

A baby cried on the edges of their little village. Sean didn't move, looking around for sympathy, though all he found was people whispering to one another, holding their children to look away from him.

"Go spend what time you have left," the Crow man said and turned to go back into his tent.

Sean felt a moment of stunned shock before he turned his mare back around. The women and children he had passed entering parted to create an exit from him, some shouting strings of nonsense, others wailing into the night. Sean kept his mare at the same pace running back to their homestead, pulling his horse up short to the porch and ran inside. A baby's cry pierced his ears and Sean ran into the house.

A child was nestled into Patricia's arm, her daughter at her shoulder with tears staining her cheeks and Frederick facing his wife. He turned to Sean.

"I'm sorry, Sean," Frederick said.

Sean didn't wait as he dashed up the steps and into the room he had last seen Rayna.

Someone had closed her eyes. She was stiff and pale, and lifeless. Sean knelt beside the bed, taking her hand in his, pushing back her hair, still wet from her last moments of life. Sean bent over her body, his cries matching their daughter's below.

* * *

Albus and Taylor walked into the conference center in the city of Inverness. They arrived the night before after James gave them this lead. Albus hadn't been back into the Ministry Library since James took the files, which endeared Taylor somewhat more to him. They followed the crowds, sitting in the back rows as they filled in. The panel of speakers settled, though with various tests and checks, it was another quarter hour before they started.

"How do we know this will work?" Taylor asked.

"We don't," Albus said. "But we have to try."

Taylor took on a look of steely determination, giving a single nod as the questions began. The panel was full of scholars on aboriginal forms of magic. Albus looked at the man on the far left, dressed in clothing he had seen on the Native Americans in pictures James had found. Him and one other leader of a tribe were representing their populations as they talked about magical legislation and how this affected the ancient lands.

Albus would have normally been enthralled, but he could only concentrate on the man who was his last hope. The healers had found nothing and Albus thought he knew why. They hadn't told Josephine, in case this didn't work. Even Taylor agreed it was better that way. Ginny was watching the children and James was going to help until Harry was done teaching that night. The rest was up to them.

With the final round of applause, people began to stand. Albus and Taylor both stood up, though she was shorter than her sister and aunt, standing on her toes to see.

"They're leaving," she said incredulously.

"Come on," Albus said, grabbing her hand and dragging her around, pushing through the mingling crowd, discussing the talking points they had just heard and what they thought should happen. He moved towards the back and was stopped at a security point. "Sorry, I just need a moment with Mr. Upshaw."

"No one is allowed back here," the man said, keeping a hand on Albus's shoulder.

"It's fine," Upshaw said, adjusting his glasses and narrowing his eyes at Albus over the guard's shoulder. "I sensed you," he added.

The guard let out a frustrated sigh and allowed Albus and Taylor to move passed him, blocking others who were peeking over to see the famed academics they had come to see.

"Mr. Upshaw, my name is Albus Potter and I have reason to believe—"

"My people cursed your family," Upshaw said with a solemn nod, though he looked at Taylor, not Albus. "The betrayal happened far more often than it should have, even among us magis."

"We didn't do anything," Taylor snapped, stiffening. "And now my sister is dying because of some jackass two hundred years ago?"

James was the one who found the memoir. He had traced it back to a man who was left to tend his two children, taking them back to New Hampshire after his wife died. He came from a family of ten children—the only with more. Upshaw's sympathetic look confirmed what they had suspected. It had started with Sean and Rayna. And a broken promise. Sean had shot the horse, stating it was useless to him. Then he packed up his house, took the children by train, and finished the record in an epithet of hatred towards the Natives that had cursed them. Albus couldn't tell if Sean knew that curse would continue, that he was inflicting this pain generation after generation.

Albus took a deep breath, waiting for Upshaw. The man didn't say anything.

"Please," Albus said. "There must be something that can be done."

Upshaw looked at Albus. "The debt cannot be paid. Reparations aren't always possible in either direction."

Albus took in an unsteady breath as Taylor turned, cursing under her breath. He pulled his wallet out, pulling pictures.

"That's my wife," Albus said, showing Upshaw. "Our son is two… he'll be three and… and our baby is only a month. I-I don't have a photograph of her yet. We… we haven't had a chance with…" Albus trailed off, his face screwing up as he swallowed. "We did the research and learned what happened. We know what that meant for you, but if you knew everything my wife has been through…"

"I can see it," Upshaw said. "It's a rare man that takes that burden on himself."

"I haven't—"

"Yes you have," Upshaw said. He took in a heavy breath. Albus looked over his shoulder where Taylor stood, arms folded and biting back her tears. Albus was sure he'd never seen Taylor cry. He was almost terrified to see it. "There is much love here. But the curse that hangs above you began when a deception was made."

"Please, you are my last hope."

"Our last hope ended long ago."

"What about my children? Will this continue with them?" Albus asked.

"Likely. It was magic of the land, not magic of my people directly."

Albus nodded. "We know what happened to your people," Albus said quietly. "I will do anything, sir."

"I remember when Sean promised as much," Upshaw said.

Albus narrowed his eyes, looking at the man who couldn't have been older than sixty. The man took Albus in with a firm, appraising glance. He put a hand on each of Albus's shoulders. Albus forgot about the crowds of others around them.

"Laws will be passed regarding our lands," Upshaw said. "The international wizengamot wishes to expose us to the world, but we prefer our seclusion. It protects us and the wizards who wish for nothing more than simple trades. You have experienced that no such simplicity exists in these ancient spaces."

"I can't made international laws," Albus said, shaking his head, his heart dropping. "I only serve to enforce—"

"Speak for us," Upshaw interrupted him again. Albus swallowed. "Can you support us and add your voice to ours."

Albus considered this. It had already proved detrimental to the family, making and breaking these half hearted promises. He thought about the panel, sifting through what his mind had been picking up as he concentrated on Upshaw. They wanted anonymity, for their tribe and community. There were spaces kept sacred and unknown to the muggle government in America. Some of them, including Upshaw, were arguing for these to remain ungoverned by international forces.

Albus nodded slowly.

"These forces are long lost to us," Upshaw said. "But I will search. Now, go back to your wife."

"How will we know if you find anything?" Taylor asked, wiping at her eyes.

"You'll know," he said. "Until then, you must trust."

* * *

Taylor had gotten a stack of books and scrolls from Imogen and James, searching for herself, but Albus felt like Upshaw's words told him one thing in particular: no one who wasn't a member of the tribe would know. It wasn't written. Upshaw might not have even known, in fact Albus was sure he didn't.

Instead, he found a new routine. Albus spent the evenings holding Ivy and playing with Arthur. Nights were sleeping in a chair beside Emily. Days he would go into work to see that there weren't urgent matters to attend to. Then he would take as much research with him to the hospital to read with Taylor in the same room, searching… searching… searching. This time he told James, so that his brother spent his own spare time looking with him. Albus wrote directives and opinions, submitting them to _The Prophet_ for consideration, but no one in England was interested in the plight of Native people in America. Not really. So his words fell away again. He sent copies to the Wizengamot, attempting to be proactive in his promise. He wondered how much was enough.

Late one night, Albus stood and decided to walk the streets of London for a while. Taylor was sitting in another chair, feet kicked up on the corner of the bed and head lolled back awkwardly. As he stepped out, the breeze picked up and Albus didn't know why, but he felt like he was being pulled one particular way. He went south on the sidewalk, alone in the dispersed bits of light.

He had gone three to four blocks when the streetlamp above him flickered, sputtered, and buzzed. Albus froze. He looked around. There was a man across the street—tall and broad shouldered. He was dressed typically, but looked straight at Albus. The man tilted his head, his face in shadow, and Albus changed direction, moving towards him. The man waited until he was halfway across the cobblestoned street before he turned and ran.

"Wait," Albus said, sensing this was important. Vital. He chased after him but the man was fast. Impossibly fast.

The man turned the corner and his feet seemed hardly to touch the ground as he glided straight. Albus froze as he lifted entirely up, his form stretching and twisting. He had wings spanning six feet. He moved upward, head shifting, feet becoming talons, feathers in place of clothing and his head becoming white against the darkened sky. The eagle sored in a wide, high circle.

Albus watched, his heart tight. The eagle circled him, then moved faster away. Albus's slumped his shoulders and then froze. There, hovering inches in front of his face was a vial. It was as long as his middle finger and filled with a purple liquid. Albus snatched it and looked to where the eagle disappeared along the lightening horizon.

Albus turned back, running toward Mungo's. He ran through the double doors on the bottom floor, pushing past an orderly blocking the lift.

"Hey, watch it!" the orderly shouted. Albus ignored him, looking more closely at the liquid. His heart pounded, wishing he could speed the lift as he moved to the fourth floor. He burst from the lift, moving around a woman taking breakfast around to patients, then hurried into Emily's room. The door hitting the wall woke Taylor with a jolt.

"What time is it?"

Albus didn't answer as he took the room in three strides, sitting on the edge of the bed beside Emily. He placed the back of his hand on her cheek, feeling her waxy skin. He held the vial as Taylor came on the other side, confusion turning to understanding as she saw the potion in his hand.

"Do you think…"

He nodded. Yes, he did think this was what they had been waiting for. An answer. A solution. He pulled off the cork and moved it towards Emily's lips. With his thumb, he parted her lips, letting the liquid drizzle at a painfully slow rate. Taylor took out her wand, propping the bed up a little more as Albus continued, one little bit at a time until only dregs and the smallest of seeds coated the sides of the glass.

They both held their breaths, Albus gripping the now empty vial. Groggy sea blue irises peeked through Emily's lashes as Taylor gasped, taking Emily's hand. Emily squeezed as her head turned and she swallowed deep. Albus moved, lips pressed to her forehead as Emily moved her other hand to his chest, still tired and weak, but her fingers were moving, her eyes opening.

"Albus," Emily whispered, gravelly from weeks of neglect.

"What, love?" he asked, his face still close to hers as her eyes met his more intently.

"Can I get some pumpkin juice?"

Albus laughed as she struggled to swallow. "Yes," he said. "Anything you want."

Albus stood to find someone to bring juice as Taylor moved closer, holding her sister. Emily's attention turned towards her. Albus breathed easier than he had in weeks as he stepped out the door.

* * *

Emily was just gaining strength again when Ginny walked in holding Arthur's hand and Josephine with Ivy in her arms an hour later, despite the healer's incredulity at the late hour. Harry followed behind the group, assuring the healer they wouldn't disturb everyone else on the floor and closing the door behind them.

"Mummy!" Arthur exclaimed pulling on Ginny's hand as she reached down, picking him up and placing him into Emily's outstretched arms. The two hugged and Albus took Ivy, going to the other side of the bed. "I miss you, Mum."

Emily kissed the top of Arthur's head, adjusting him on her lap as she turned to Ivy, her eyes filling with tears.

"She's already so much bigger," Emily said. Ivy began to fuss. When Taylor told her it had been six weeks already, Emily looked stunned and pained. Now she leaned back reaching her fingers out to Ivy's wild, black hair.

"She looks like you," Josephine said. "More hair, though. Never seen a child with hair that had a mind all its own."

Albus and his mother exchanged a smile. That was entirely Potter.

They all sat there for a long time, answering Emily's questions about what had happened since she had slipped away from them. She remembered holding Ivy, then nothing. She had dreamed, she said, but she couldn't remember what. Albus continued to tuck her hair back, over and over, holding Arthur on his lap so they were all as close as they could be. Even as Emily's energy waned, she held tighter to Ivy, leaning back with the baby laying across her body, Ivy's head laying against Emily's shoulder. It wasn't until Arthur was getting fussy and tired that Ginny and Harry said they would head home, though Emily insisted on having Arthur stay the night. A healer brought in one of the hospital's bassinets and Albus held Ivy, bouncing her until her eyes became heavy and shut, Emily's voice in the background telling Arthur a story as he, too, fell to sleep.

"I think I'll go back to your house, so it doesn't get too crowded in here," Josephine said quietly, Taylor already settling back to sleep in an arm chair on Emily's other side. "I'll be back in the morning."

Josephine leaned over to kiss Emily's cheek, Emily's hand covering her aunt's as she gave a gentle smile.

"Thank you, Aunt Josie."

"I'll walk you out," Albus offered, laying Ivy in the bassinet and holding the door open for the older woman. They made it to the stairs and were on their way down before either said anything.

"So the potion was delivered."

Albus stopped. Josephine continued until she made it to the first landing, turning to look up at Albus.

"How did you know?"

"I sent your articles to some acquaintances in the United States," she said. "James was telling me what you all found out. I wrote to Upshaw myself with the article once the Magi Magazine published it. Then I took the letter to the International Wizengamot and included it with my own to the American Council of Wizards. I have an old colleague in there, you know."

"Taylor thought it would be best not to get your hopes up," Albus hurried with an explanation. "Especially after we saw Upshaw the first time."

"I know," Josephine said. "I just wish you would have let me help. It was my family this all happened to as well. My sister…"

Silence hung between them as Albus sat on the step with a sigh.

"We should have figured it out sooner," Josephine continued. She moved up, sitting beside him. "Between mom and Eliza… I should have realized something odd was happening. But I hope you know we were to help in every way possible. You didn't have to go it alone."

"I just wanted to have solid answers first," Albus muttered. "I know what you must think of me… what Taylor thought of me when I was throwing myself into finding answers. Emily made me promise to focus on them and I ended up just like their dad."

"Yes and no," Josephine said, pursing her lips as she thought. "Calvin… Calvin wouldn't let anyone share his burden. I'd watch the girls when I could and tried to help out, but I saw the hope draining from him. He never really connected with Emily the way you have with Ivy. He never really thought he could be a dad on his own. You were finding hope instead. You just should have used all your resources. Including us."

Albus looked down at his interlocked fingers nodding. He should have. If Josephine hadn't inserted herself into his efforts, maybe they still wouldn't have Emily with him.

"Upshaw sent me a letter," Josephine added. "Something about a potion that would release the curse from the family. Said he hoped we would continue to plead their case where we were able."

"We will," Albus said.

"You let me worry about that one," Josephine said. "I'll keep you in the loop, but I can take on that. You have a family to focus on."

"Thank you," Albus said.

Josephine placed a hand on Albus's cheek and gave a kind smile, her eyes glazed with tears. She stood back up and Albus followed her to the apparition location on the south side of the hospital. Josephine told him she would be by as early as she could in the morning and to let her know if they needed anything before then.

Albus made his way back into the room. Taylor was already asleep, having become accustomed to the chair. Emily was bleary-eyed, running her hand over the top of Arthur's head over and over, turning to look at Ivy, then back at their son.

Albus sat in the other free chair, moving it close to Emily, wrapping one arm around her legs and running his thumb along her thigh. Emily turned toward him and grinned. Pale and tired, but alert.

"You scared me, Em," Albus whispered.

"I know," Emily replied. "I'm sorry."

They sat looking at one another, making up for the weeks apart until Emily couldn't keep her eyes open any longer. Albus leaned forward, resting his head on her stomach and Emily fell asleep with her fingers tangled in Albus's hair.

* * *

Emily's strength returned quickly. Day-by-day, hour-by hour, she continued to return to her normal self. Three days after she woke, she was released to go home. Ginny and Harry left, saying they would visit in a few weeks again and Josephine helped wrangle Arthur as the rest of them settled into normal life. She would be around for another month or so, based on her schedule, though Taylor had to get back to her work soon after everyone was there.

"You come for my birthday, Aunt Tay-tay?" Arthur asked.

"I'll come for Christmas," she promised, picking him up and giving him a "dragon hug," as the two called it.

He ran off and Taylor made the rounds with everyone else before she took her portkey back to Romania, promising to send everyone's love and well wishes to Charlie while they were at it.

Albus watched Josephine and Arthur play from the window after waving goodbye.

"I remember one of the dreams I had," Emily said from the couch. Albus turned. She was swaying with Ivy in her arms. Albus moved closer, sitting on the arm beside her.

"Yeah?"

"I dreamed about this," Emily said. "Us. You and me. Ivy and Arthur. I dreamed about you."

Albus took her jaws in his hands. He had been gentle and cautious with her since she woke. He kissed her, noticing more than ever the warmth of her lips and the way her fingers moved on his neck.

"Yuck!" Arthur said from the doorway.

Emily laughed as Albus pulled back, looking towards the door. Albus just kept looking at her… his Emily.

"You stop doing that," Arthur instructed.

"Never," Emily countered, winking at Albus.

Arthur went on, issuing toddler orders and pulling Josephine around, telling her how things were. Albus didn't register most of it. Instead, he watched Emily laugh and question their son, hold their daughter, and he realized this was exactly what he had been dreaming of too.


End file.
